I'm Not In Love
by Maxie Kay
Summary: A WHN for Plan B. Kensi thinks about Deeks & what he means to her.Deeks thinks Kensi is acting strangely. The team think there's definitely something going on. Now all they have to do is work how out they really feel about things. Some mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm Not In Love**

**An NCIS FAnfiction**

**By**

**Maxie Kay**

_A WHN for the season 2 episode Plan B._

Hetty signed her signature with a flourish and closed the file with no small degree of satisfaction. It was always a relief when an operation was successfully concluded and there had been no loss of life or major injury. Except something kept nagging away at the back of her mind, a sense of unease that dug its claws into her consciousness and would not leave her in peace. There had been something about the look of devastation in his eyes that haunted her. Her team might be resilient, consummately professional, they might even kick ass – but they were only human, and they too had all the frailties associated with being alive, even if they tended to hide it rather better than most. Except for tonight. Tonight the mask had slipped to one side and she had seen the unguarded man, and it had worried her. Hetty had learned to listen to her feelings and to act upon them.

"It might be a good idea to make sure Mr Deeks is alright." Hetty cocked her head to one side, in a curiously bird-like movement. "The events of the past few days have been rather trying for him." He'd typed up his report and then left as quickly as possible, hardly saying a single word.

"Not just for Deeks - for all of us," Callen reminded her. One way or another, Ray Martindale and his wife Nicole had thrown some major spanners into the workings of what should have been a straightforward operation. But, in the end, it had all worked out alright: they'd got Sander's men, he was staying in jail and Ray had got away in one piece. Sure, Deeks had been forced to confront some things that would probably have been better left in the past, but he was tough: he cope with it. He didn't actually have much of a choice there, not if he wanted to remain sane. Callen knew all about drawing a line in the sand when it came to relationships and moving on. Only sometimes you needed a bit of help.

"Point taken, Mr Callen. But you did not have the emotional connotations to contend with." Hetty could remember the heartbreak only too clearly. Whille you could acknowledge the ineveitable, that did not make it any easier to deal with. And sometimes feeling crept up on you when you were least prepared to deal with them.

"Deeks will be fine. He's a big boy." Sam finished cramming his gym gear into his bag and stood, poised to leave and clearly not wanting to have to make a detour on his way home. Nicole had effectively commissioned a contract killing and the LAPD were holding her for questioning. There was no way Deeks could rekindle whatever sort of relationship they had once had. The guy just had to chalk that one down to experience. But maybe, now he thought about it, Hetty had a point. They could have a few beers together, maybe watch the game on tv? It wasn't like he had any actual plans, other than doing some laundry. And his shorts could probably last another day in any event. Sam looked across at Callen, who shrugged his shoulders, but before he could open his mouth, Kensi raised her head.

"He's my partner, so I guess it falls to me," she said with feigned nonchalance. This case had raised more than a few questions in her own mind, and she wouldn't mind getting some answers. Tonight was as good a time as any. "I am kind of worried about him."

"You sure? Sam and I could go grab some beers and join you?"

Kensi shook her head. "No, you go home. I'll drop by his apartment and make sure he's okay."

"If you're sure?" There was something about Kensi, not exactly in the words she spoke, but perhaps in what she did not say, that made Callen uneasy.

"Yeah. I'll make sure Deeks is alright. That's what partners are for."

Sam and Callen left together, glad to get out of the Mission for the evening. The operation was over, they'd written their reports and filed them away in the system. Mentally, they had already drawn a neat line underneath everything and moved on. Kensi wished she could do the same. Only that was the problem – she couldn't. She couldn't stop thinking about Deeks, thinking about watching him kiss Nicole and how she had felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her world. Which was complete nonsense, of course. It had just been a shock, that was all. Because she didn't feel anything for him. Nothing at all.

Deeks was her partner and that was all he was: and while he certainly meant more to Kensi than just a casual work colleague, he was absolutely nothing like a boyfriend or, God forbid, a lover. Any relationship they had was purely professional, and in any case, had been forced upon them. It wasn't as if she would have chosen him, had she been given a choice - which she most definitely had not been. No, they were partners and nothing more. Kensi knew she cared about Deeks, but that was only because he was her partner and she would have felt the same way about anyone else she was paired up with. Obviously. That went without saying. Working with a partner and developing a bond went with the job, it was part and parcel of what she did. They had a professional relationship, but it was nothing more. She felt nothing more for him than that. And, more than anything, Kensi knew she wasn't in love with Deeks. Because that would be ridiculous. He flirted with her as a matter of routine and she rebuffed him, with resigned expectation. That was the way it worked – the way they worked and it was the way it had always been right from the start. And in any case, Deeks flirted with everyone, it was just the way he was. Being charming was hard-wired into his system and it meant nothing. But sometimes it was hard to resist; sometimes he was very hard to resist. But Kensi knew the rules of the game and she stuck to them. Because it meant nothing at all to either of them. She wasn't about to make a fool of herself. Jack had done a great job on destroying her confidence when it came to love and there was no way she was going to expose herself to that sort of pain again.

Nicole, on the other hand, had meant something to Deeks. That had been obvious from the start and when he had kissed her… Kensi shook her head and stared up at his apartment window, wondering what she was doing sitting out here in her car, like some kind of stalker. There was a light on inside and she could see him quite clearly, leaning forward with his hands on the windowsill, staring out towards the infinite ocean. Kensi sat in her and watched him and wondered what it would be like to love Deeks – and to be loved back. And then she shook her head.

"Get a grip, Blye. You're not in love. You are definitely not in love, so don't forget it. It's just a silly phase you're going through." Maybe if she said it enough times, Kensi thought she might just start to believe it.

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><p><em>I had no plans to write this - until I heard the 10cc song "I'm not in love" this afternoon and slushy ploy bunny came scampering up and laid his little head on my lap. He looked so sweet that it was impossible to resist him - and this is the result. I hope you like it as much as he does.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews and story alerts!_

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><p>Deeks stared blankly out of the window and across the street to where the ocean glimmered faintly in the distance, trying to get his head around everything that was happening in his life. It was all so just damned complicated, he thought. Just when he thought he'd got things straight, had finally worked out where he stood and how he felt about things, this had to happen. Everything had changed, changed beyond all recognition. Nicole was in his past. Technically she had never actually been in <em>his<em> past – she'd been in Max's past, and Max had never really existed. Only, somewhere along the line, Deeks realised that everything had got messed up and Nicole had become part of his life too. And while he wasn't in love with her, it was entirely possible that Max had been. As much as Max was capable of love, that was. Max wasn't capable of much except mindless brutality, but Nicole had seen something else in him. She'd loved him. More than that, she'd adored him, and when you were faced with that sort of devotion, it was hard to resist, as Deeks knew only too well. Not that he'd put up much of a fight, because living in Max's world, living as Max meant Deeks had been craving for something decent. And then Nicole came along.

No, it hadn't been love. Not ever. It was just one of those things, no more than a phase he'd been going through, and a particularly silly phase at that. So why had he felt so damned pleased to see her? And he knew that kissing Nicole again and having all those memories flooding back, sweeter than ever had been a mistake, a big mistake. Deeks knew better than that, because he'd been there before with Nicole, and he'd left her before; he knew exactly how much that hurt. So why did he have to go and make the same stupid mistake all over again and allow himself to get dragged back in? Well, the answer to that was easy – because he couldn't help himself. Because Deeks had taken one look at Nicole and not only had he seen how she looked at him, but he'd also seen himself through her eyes – through the eyes of love. Just for a moment, he had wanted something decent to happen in his life and it had been so easy to kiss her. Just as it had been so easy to love her, all those years ago. If he was perfectly honest, Deeks just wanted to be loved. But he wasn't in love with Nicole. Not really. Maybe he was more in love with the idea of love than with the reality? This whole thing was just so screwed up there was no making any sense of anything. But he knew one thing: he definitely wasn't in love with Nicole. Not now, not after all that had happened. That chapter of the book had been written, but it didn't mean he couldn't close the book and start afresh. And when he did go back and read their story, he was at liberty to at least score through the words and write notes in the margins so that nobody would ever think that Marty Deeks had once loved Nicole Martindale. It wasn't cheating – everyone rewrote their histories, didn't they?

Because Deeks knew that he had to acknowledge that the sweet, kind Nicole that Max had known had disappeared completely, leaving in her place the epitome of a woman scorned. Christ alone knew what she'd do to him now, Deeks thought, now that she finally knew the truth. More to the point, what would she do to Max? Same difference, really. Nicole would probably have a little chat to some of her friends, the friends with automatic weapons. It was all such a mess. Deeks leant forward and let his face press against the cool window pane. That car down there looked strangely familiar…

Oh God. It was Kensi, Deeks realised. Kensi was down there and she was looking right up at his window, right at him. And Kensi was the last person he wanted to see right now. Kensi, who blew hot and cold, who beckoned him forward one moment and then pushed him away the next. Kensi who was everything he wasn't looking for in a woman, even if she was quite hot. Ray had thought he was being so funny, telling Kensi that his old pal had a thing for brunettes, when he knew damn fine that Deeks went for blondes straight down the line. Not that he wouldn't be willing to make an exception, if the right woman came along. And right now he was willing to be tempted, just so that he could forget Nicole. It was strange how bad he felt about seeing her again, because he'd never been in love with her. Nicole had just been there when he'd needed someone, that was all. It wasn't that she had been special – she'd just been in the right place at the right time and he'd taken advantage of her.

His cell phone went off and even before he looked, Deeks knew what the screen would show.

"Hi Kensi." He looked down at the street and saw that she'd got out of the car and was standing on the sidewalk, still looking up at his apartment.

"Hi. I was just in the neighbourhood." Kensi could hear how pathetic her words sounded. But surely it was no big deal? Just because she called him, it didn't mean anything. Surely Deeks wouldn't get the wrong idea?

"Really?" Deeks began to feel a little better about things. He could do with a distraction. More than that, he could really use a friend right now. "You want to come up?" He shouldn't read too much into this, it wasn't like Kensi was doing anything special or making any kind of statement by coming over. After all, they were partners – which meant what, exactly? Well, that was the question. It probably came somewhere between friends, relatives and lovers, only Deeks couldn't exactly work out where. Nor was he entirely sure that it mattered. What _did_ matter was that Kensi was out there. She'd cared enough to come over. She'd cared enough about him. Maybe Deeks hadn't exactly got it made, but it wasn't a bad start. It might even be enough to be going on with.

"Sure. If it's okay?" What did she have to lose, Kensi thought. If he wanted to cry on her shoulder about Nicole, that was fine. It wouldn't break her heart to hear Deeks say how much he'd loved Nicole, of course it wouldn't.

"It's fine." He might have lucked out on the love front, but at least someone cared enough about him to come over. Shaking away thoughts of Nicole, and the remnants of his guilt for dreaming, Deeks reminded himself that Kensi was only his partner, and that he felt nothing more for her than friendship. She was so not his type and he was definitely not in love with her. And even if he was, just a little bit, the fact that Kensi was standing outside in the dark staring up at his window with an unreadable expression on her face didn't mean that he'd got it made. Although it would be great if it did, a small part of him acknowledged. Deeks pushed that uncomfortable thought away, even as the memory of Nicole receded just a little bit further into the background.

Kensi's heart gave a small skip of excitement as she ended the call and crossed the street. She felt like a teenager going on a blind date. Which was utterly ridiculous. She was a grown woman and this was Deeks after all. Deeks. Who she had never been remotely attracted to. She'd certainly never printed out that phoney DMV photograph where he looked as if he could see right into her soul and then stuck in on her kitchen wall. And in any case, it hid the stain where the blender lid had flown off when she was making a smoothie. That was the sort of thing that kids did, and she was a sophisticated woman, who knew a thing or two about life and, more importantly, about love. Kensi knew only too well that all that would happen tonight would be that she would sit and listen to Deeks talk about how much he loved Nicole and it would everything be fine. Of course it would. Why wouldn't it be? It wasn't as if she was in love with the guy after all. All Kensi had to so was to keep remembering that and she would be fine. Her fingers were firmly crossed as she opened the door to the lobby.

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><p><em>Slushy plot bunny wants to know why love is so complicated. I told him that love hurts and he just shook his head sadly and told me that was all wrong. I think he might just have a point there.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

And here is the part where they stop thinking so much, and start acting...

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><p>Deeks was standing waiting for her at the door to his apartment, and Kensi was relieved to see there was a half-smile on his face.<p>

"Sorry it's so late." For some reason she felt unaccustomedly flustered.

"No problem." Deeks stood aside so that she could go in. "The living room's straight ahead."

It was a large room, with three long windows that looked out over the ocean, polished wooden floors and a large fireplace. "Nice place." She looked around, marvelling at the space and the lack of clutter.

"It's alright." He shrugged. "And it's handy for the ocean."

Kensi noticed a large photograph on the wall above the fireplace and wandered over for a closer look. "That's you?" She looked at the huge wave, almost dwarfing the man who was surfing horizontally along, as the water broke just in his wake, threatening to engulf him. The power and beauty of the image was undeniable, as was the realisation that here was a man who liked to skate along the threshold of danger. And while he was instantly recognisable in the photograph, it was impossible to tell if Deeks had been terrified or exhilarated during that ride, although she rather suspected the latter.

"That's me," he agreed, trying to sound as casual as possible. "It was taken a couple of years ago."

"It's amazing. You're really good." For some reason, Kensi had always imagined Deeks just fooling around in the surf, wiping out more times than he actually managed to catch a ride to shore. She turned around to look at him. "Your hair's wet."

"I had a shower when I got back." It had been too dark to go out with his board, so Deeks had stood under the shower for as long as possible, trying to let the water wash away all the pain and conflict in his head. He ran one hand through his damp hair, pushing it back off his face, and as he raised his arm, his shirt rode up slightly, so that Kensi could see how his pants hung low on his hips, and the fine line of golden hairs that led tantalisingly down from his navel. Turning abruptly, she walked over to the windows, suddenly in desperate need of some fresh air and needing desperately to get away from him before she lost control of herself altogether

"Are you okay?" Deeks was at her back, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of his neck and could almost sense the heat radiating off his body. It took every iota of self-control that Kensi had not to turn around and fling herself into his arms. Her entire body seemed consumed with an aching need for him, an intense desire that was rising as inexorably as the wave in the photograph.

"I'm fine." She pushed the window open a little farther and took a deep breath of the ocean air, filling her lungs with the sharp, salty tang of the sea, breathing deeply in an attempt to slow down the hammering of her heart. She'd never wanted anyone quite so much in her entire life. Kensi knew she wasn't thinking straight, but she couldn't stop thinking about Deeks, thinking about how much she needed him, needed him right now.

"Kensi?" Deeks was starting to get worried – this wasn't the Kensi he knew. She wasn't her normal sparky, almost prickly self. This Kensi was subtly different, softer somehow, almost vulnerable. He could almost see the energy her body was giving off, and her hair seemed full of an energy all of its own, as if the air was becoming charged with static energy before a storm. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder and the instant she felt his touch Kensi whirled around, nearly tumbling over in her haste. Automatically, he reached out to steady her, taking hold of her elbows and pulling her gently towards him. "Kensi?" Deeks said again, his face so close to hers that Kensi could see herself reflected in his eyes, his eyes that were the colour of the ocean in the early morning light.

"I'm fine." Kensi freed her arms, put the palms of her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "Don't crowd me, Deeks." The comforting smell of his soap mixed with the ocean brine was almost enough to put her spine out of place. "Just because I came to see, it doesn't mean anything." _I'm not in love,_ she thought. _This isn't love. This is just lust._

Deeks took a couple of steps backward, his bare feet soft on the floor. "Did I say it did?" This was more like it, the old familiar routine of one step forward, two steps back. But he was getting tired of playing games on her terms.

"You know it doesn't mean anything to me."

"Do I? Seems like pretty much whatever I say or do is going to be the wrong thing."

"So don't say anything then." Kensi couldn't help herself, her legs were propelling her forward, seemingly of their own volition and she was powerless to stop them and her voice was saying the things her heart felt, as if her brain was no longer filtering them out safely. And once again she was confronted by his eyes, looking straight at her and she felt as if she could drown in their depths. This was getting dangerous. If she went much further, she wouldn't be able to stop herself. _I'm so not in love_, she thought again. _And even if I was, this wouldn't mean anything. And it certainly wouldn't mean anything to Deeks. He's a player, he knows the score. What do I have to lose here?_ "Just kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Deeks had not been expecting this and he wondered if this was just another of the games Kensi seemed to revel in – leading him on and then going into reverse at such high speed it made his head spin. Maybe it was time to take control?

"Kiss me," Kensi confirmed and smiled. "You know how to kiss, don't you Deeks?"

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><p><em>Well, how excited is slushy plot bunny at that little turn of events? Regular readers will be happy to hear that randy plot bunny has now appeared, so thre is every likelyhood of some fireworks in the next chapter.<em>

_BTW: for the avoidance of doubt, I can assure you that Deeks does indeed know how to kiss. As Kensi is about to discover. I do hope I didn't give any major plot points away there. So, with that happy thought, I leave you as I'm going to prune my lavender bushes. Exciting life I lead, eh?_


	4. Chapter 4

_by popular demand (in other words, randy plot bunny held the laptop hostage until I wrote this bit), here we go..._

_Don't you just wish Shane Brennan would bow to the inevitable? He's got this really hot couple, who clearly find each other attractive - enough with the delayed gratification, mate. _

_Randy plot bunny thinks he and I should book a couple of plane tickets asap and have a stern word with the script-writers._

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><p>Deeks didn't say anything. Not a single word. But then the look in his eyes said everything there was to say, and more. Instead of speaking, he just put one arm around Kensi's waist, while the other one eased around her neck, so that she found herself leaning into his embrace, feeling completely secure, even as her nerves were jangling with anticipation. "You want me to kiss you, Kensi?" he asked teasingly, in a low and husky tone, but he'd never been more serious in his life.<p>

Just hearing the tenor of his voice, feeling the vibration of the words coming through his chest and reverberating incessantly into her own body made all the hairs on the back of Kensi's neck stand up on end and her whole body seemed to jangle with anticipation, even as the warmth of his hand seemed to burn into the small of her back. "That's what I said." She let one fingertip drift across his lips, and then eased it slowly into her own mouth with a contended sigh.

"You're sure about that?" Deeks leant forward, so that Kensi found her back arching as he soared above her, effortlessly holding her and suspending her in mid-air, so that she was completely at his control. She gave into the moment completely.

"Yes." Kensi had never been more definite about anything in her whole life. She stared up at him fearlessly, her hair almost trailing on the floor and surrendered herself to him, her body limp and pliant and her gaze demanding.

"There is a God." Because Deeks didn't know if he could stand this teasing much longer. He smiled down at her and realised this was meant to be. At this particular moment in time, this was exactly what was meant to happen and there was no point in denying it. Not that he wanted to. He'd never wanted anything quite so much. He'd never wanted any woman so much in his entire life. Everything seemed to crystalise in this moment.

It was as if fireworks were exploding in her brain, Kensi thought, as their lips finally met. She'd lost count of the nights she had spent, lying in bed in the dark nights of loneliness and despair and wondering what it would feel like to kiss Deeks, dreaming about him so that when she woke up it was almost a surprise not to find him lying next to her. But this wasn't a dream. This as actually happening and the reality was so much better than she'd ever dreamed of. It was like he was hard-wired into the pleasure centres of her brain, so much so that her body almost convulsed with pleasure the instant his tongue came into her mouth. And then Kensi was greedily seeking him, her own tongue invading his mouth, her hands reaching up and entwining themselves in his hair, holding Deeks captive in her embrace. "Oh fuck, Marty." It was almost an entreaty.

"Jesus. Your tongue…" Deeks pulled her back upright, so that they were once again on a level, staring at one another. Kensi's hands were pressed against his shoulder blades and she was staring at him challengingly, even as he shook his head in wonder, trying frantically to make some sense of all this, even as his body was telling him one thing, and one thing only: he wanted her. Wanted her beyond all reason.

"You do know how to kiss. Who would have thunk it?" Kensi bent forward and caught his bottom lip between her teeth, holding it tenderly for a second, all the while trying to make some sense of it all. And Deeks let her increase the pressure subtlety. They did not break eye contact, they did not blink.

Deeks kissed her again, much harder this time. "I aim to please." His hand settled upon her breast, first cupping it, and then letting his thumb circled around her nipple and Kensi was unable to retrain the moan of delight that tore out of her throat, or to stop her body pressing hard against his, so that they almost seemed to mould into one another.

"This means nothing to me," she gasped and then pulled him back in for another kiss, savouring the pleasure, feeling as if she was rolling in the newly cut grass of summer and that this moment would last forever.

"I know." Deeks felt as if he was drowning in her sweetness, being sucked into a whirlpool which he was powerless to resist.

"I'm not in love." Kensi pulled up his shirt and let her hand slip just inside his pants. She was unable to restrain a small purr of delight.

"I know. Same here." He nipped the lobe of her ear and Kensi felt a jolt of pleasure tear through her body.

It didn't make any sort of sense at all. They were partners: it was basically a business arrangement. There was nothing more to it than that. But Kensi wasn't thinking about anything except how amazing Deeks felt and how mind-blowing it felt to be held by him. And why should she care that the lights were on and there were no curtains at the window when Deeks pulled at her blouse so that the buttons flew in a dozen different directions and clattered down onto the wooden floor? Because by then her hands were reaching behind her back and undoing the clasp on her bra; she was arching her spine provocatively and Deeks was smiling at her, with that familiar, devil-may-care smile that had suddenly taken on a whole new dimension. It wasn't love, but whatever it was, it felt pretty damned amazing. And who needed love anyway? Why make a fuss about things and destroy whatever it was they had going on between them?

Deeks struggled briefly with the contrast the Kensi he thought he knew and this creature who was purely driven by pleasure and who made him feel as if the world had existed from the beginning to time solely so that they might meet like this. "It's… it's just because."

"I know." And with that Kensi let her hand slide down the smooth skin of his torso, feeling the power of the musculature and enjoying the sensation of his smooth skin, flickering over the jut of his hip bone, and following it downwards until her fingertips were resting just above his crotch. "Oh God, you feel so good." The words were somewhere between a prayer and an entreaty, almost a benediction.

And in that same instant, her tongue was doing the most incredible things and Deeks could feel himself spiralling desperately out of control. He shut his eyes. "Don't stop." Deeks pressed himself against her touch, burrowing his face into Kensi's neck and she relished the feeling of power and control. She'd never felt like this before, had never had the sensation that the slightest touch could send a man into paroxysms of desire.

"Why would I want to stop?" He was kissing the hollow at the base of her throat, and Kensi had never realised that this was an erogenous zone until now. But then just about any part of her body that Deeks touched was sparking into life. All of a sudden, Kensi craved the sensation of bare flesh against bare flesh and she grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one smooth movement, even as she pressed hard against him, her hands roving up and down his back. "Why do you have to be so fucking perfect?"

"Just lucky, I guess" She was showering his body with kisses, and Deeks was caressing her at the same time and even though they both knew this was stupid, that it would never lead anywhere except to trouble, they couldn't give a damn. Because it just felt so good, so perfect, like it was meant to be. Nobody was going to get hurt, because they weren't in love. This was just sex, the most basic of all human instincts. And after all they were adults, they were partners and they were most definitely not in love.

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><p><em>However, I am definitely loving the reviews! Reviews feed the plot bunnies, so if you want to find out what happens next, just press that little button.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

A slightly naughty bit - so be warned. Randy plot bunny's eyes are round with delight. So are Kensi's.

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><p>"Then this is your lucky day." Kensi let herself sink down onto the floor bonelessly and found the bare skin of her back was lying on a fur rug that felt as is if had been placed specifically for this occasion. Maybe it had, she thought lazily, knowing what Deeks was like. She wouldn't put it past him. Only it felt sinfully good. Maybe Deeks had the right idea after all. He certainly seemed to have erotic depths she'd never dreamt of, having rather presumed he would be of the "wham bam, thank you ma'am" school of love making. It was nice to be proven wrong, for once. The silky pelt served only to heighted her pleasure and, with eyes shut, she pressed her shoulders into the fur, enjoying the erotic new sensation.<p>

"And yours." Deeks pulled off his pants and looked at her, lying there on that fur rug, wearing only a miniscule pair of scarlet panties and practically panting with desire. _This isn't real, _he thought_. This isn't happening. It's the best damned dream I've ever had and I don't want to wake up._

"No underwear?" Kensi let her eyes linger over Deeks, scanning slowly down from head to toe and then back up again. He was all golden-toned perfection, she thought as he lay down beside her. She cocked one eyebrow teasingly and ran her tongue over his lips before crushing into a kiss that nearly took his breath away.

"I like to be prepared." Deeks rolled over so that he was on top of her, covering her body completely with his own, elbows braced and resting on the floor. He pressed his hips into her groin and rotated them slowly, a broad grin on his face.

"Oh." Kensi let her hand drift down and insinuate its way between them. She gulped slightly. "So I see." _Oh. My. God. I've died and gone to heaven. Thank you, Lord – thank you._ Her fingers curved around him and she saw his face take on a hazy, far-away look. _With my body, I thee worship_, she thought irreverently. If ever there was a body to worship, it was Deeks'.

"How about you?" His fingers were tangling in the elastic of her panties and then sneaking around behind her back and slipping inside the satin fabric to curve around the cheeks of her ass. Automatically, Kensi raised her hips, her longing clear on her face. "Are you prepared?" _Because anything might happen in the next half-hour._

"Why don't you find out?" _And don't take too long, because I might just come any second now. Do you have any idea how much you are turning me on, with your gorgeous body and your amazing mouth? And the fact that this is you – my partner – doing these things and making me feel this way is the biggest turn-on ever. It's not love – but it is brilliant._

It only took a second for Deeks to slide the panties down her legs and then she was lying on the fur rug, completely naked, watching Deeks as he looked at her, her body crying out for him to touch her.

"Please." Her voice was raw with longing. "Please – just touch me?"

"Like this?" His fingers were teasing her, flickering over her thighs, gently circling around before finally honing in with exquisite precision. Oh yes, she was prepared. She was more than ready.

"Oh yes." His touch was like a lightning bolt of unadulterated pleasure shooting wildly around her being, the sensation zinging throughout her entire body and her voice was deep and throaty. And then Kensi's hands were pulled above her head and pinioned on the floor, even as she arched up once again towards him and Deeks was everywhere. There didn't seem to be a single part of her body that wasn't singing out with sheer pleasure from the caress of his hands, the touch of his mouth, the pressure of his tongue and the way his teeth nibbled and teased. That familiar golden stubble was rasping gently over her skin, grazing it with exquisite tenderness and kensi had never experienced anything so arousing. And while it wasn't love, it was pretty damned amazing. So amazing in fact, that Kensi almost forgot to breathe. But when Deeks moved down, caressed her ass once again and then lifted her up to meet his mouth, there was nothing Kensi could do to stop the scream that seemed to start in her groin and work all the way up until it ripped out of her mouth. She felt like she was soaring up, that her body was completely weightless, just floating on this cloud of ecstasy as Deeks' tongue did things that took her to places she had never been before.

This wasn't love. Kensi knew that. She couldn't possibly begin to guess what it might be, and right now she didn't care. And it didn't mean anything, beyond mind-blowingly good sex. The best sex she'd ever had – and it was only just beginning. And it went without saying that Deeks didn't mean that much to her. This was just one night of transcendentally brilliant sex. Love didn't enter into it at all.


	6. Chapter 6

_Randy plot bunny is getting so excited by all this that he is running around in circles, letting out small squeaks of delight. It's all going to end in tears before bedtime, I'm quite sure. But, until that happens, here's a little bit more..._

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><p>Deeks finally raised his head, sensing that Kensi was getting dangerously close to the edge and looked at her lying sprawled in reckless abandonment on the fur rug, her hair a tangled mess and her body just waiting for him. There was a yearning look in her eyes and a curiously vulnerable expression on her face, as if she was conscious of having exposed more than her body to him. A small voice in his head was speaking, warning him to stop, to stop right now, before things went too far, before they reached the point of no return. He steeled himself to pull back, telling himself that this was nothing that a long, freezing cold shower wouldn't cope with. It wasn't like he had any sort of emotional attachment, and it was certainly not like he was in love with her. This was just sex. Correction: this was just foreplay. It wasn't too late to stop now, and Kensi could leave and tomorrow might be a little awkward, but they'd get over it. If only he could get over her as easily. Somehow, Kensi had found her way into his heart, despite his best efforts. Love hurt, and Deeks had learned that lesson the hard way. Only he kept making the same mistake, time after time. He kept giving his heart, only to have it thrust back at him.<p>

"Marty?" Kensi couldn't work out why he had stopped. And at the worst possible time, just when she was beginning to feel as if she might explode with pent up longing. She could sense that she was so close to coming that it would just take a single touch of his fingers. Or his mouth. Or maybe even if he just looked at her, with his eyes narrowed and that singular smile she'd come to love. Why did he have to pick this moment to stop? The man was insanely gifted when it came to making out and Kensi was right at the edge, balancing on a knife edge between madness and utter contentment. She didn't want to lose the moment. So why had he stopped?

The realisation came like a thunderbolt. Oh God – there was something wrong with her: that was it. Jack had never gone down on her, not once in all the time they'd been together, although he'd been keen enough for her to do it to him. But then sex with Jack had been perfunctory at best, deeply frustrating at best. He'd been her first, and until now Kensi had believed there was something wrong with her. That was what Jack had said, anyway. That it was her fault she never climaxed. It was only now that Kensi was beginning to realise how pathetic Jack had been and what she had been missing. Jack was a first grade child scraping away painfully at a fiddle, while Marty was a virtuoso who could draw the sweetest music from her soul, making her feel so alive it was as if she was dancing on the edge of time. "Marty?" she asked again, trying to make some sense of all this.

The sound of his name was shocking. Kensi never called him Marty. He was always Deeks to Kensi, and to the rest of the team for that matter. It was distancing, impersonal even, but he'd accepted it as merely being the way things were. But to hear Kensi say his name, to hear the longing and the desire in her voice and then to see her, lying all flushed with anticipation: it would unman a better man than him. Maybe she was going to let him into her heart, that carefully fenced-off area, guarded by rabid wolves?

"Say that again." Hehad to be sure he wasn't imagining things. Just to make sure, he kissed her and Kensi could taste herself on his lips.

"Marty. I want you, Marty."

Oh God. How could he possibly stop now? How the hell could he stop now, especially when Kensi was holding him in her hand again, caressing him in a slightly inept fashion that was none the less rather endearing. "Slowly," he urged her. "We've got all the time in the world." There was no rush. He wanted this to be perfect. It was probably going to be the only time Kensi would ever let him make love to her and Marty wanted to make sure she would remember it.

Afterwards, she lay in his arms and sobbed, feeling like a real woman at last. How the hell had she never realised this was what it was meant to be like? Why had she waste all these years, all this time, never knowing what it felt like to be loved? Not that Marty was in love with her, Kensi wasn't about to fool herself. But when they were together, when he was inside her, moving within her and she was gripping him tightly and they echoed one another's movements: she knew she was loved. And if it was just for a few minutes, then that was fine. It was better than everything that had gone before, all those incredibly unsatisfying couplings with Jack. For a few brief, shining moments Kensi had reached nirvana.

"Is it always so wonderful?"

"No, not always." He buried his face in her hair. "But with you – I think it would always be amazing." That set her crying again, which wasn't exactly what he'd planned. There was something going on here that didn't quite make sense. Kensi had been in a long-term relationship, yet she'd been as tentative as a virgin. He wondered what the hell that Jack guy had been playing at and why she'd stayed with such a jerk. Marty let her sob over his chest, rubbing her back and trying desperately not to get turned on all over again. He kissed each of her eyelids in turn, kissing away the tears, so softly, so sweetly that it set Kensi to crying once more.

"Just hold me," she gasped. "Don't let me go." More than anything, she needed to know that he was there, he was real – this was real. Because she couldn't bear for this to be a dream not when her dreary, barren life had suddenly blossomed into full bloom.

"I'm not going anywhere," he soothed, and rocked her gently. "I'm right here. For as long as you want me."

And she believed him. All at once, Kensi felt safe. It was just a shame that she wasn't in love, because that would have made everything perfect. But she didn't do love, she'd been there and had her heart broken and she was never going back down that road again. It was a pity, because if ever she could have fallen in love with someone, Marty Deeks would have been right at the top of a list of one.

"I want you," she whispered. "I want you right now, Marty."

"You don't ask for much, do you?" He feigned indignation, but just knowing how much Kensi wanted him was enough to set up a familiar throbbing. This wasn't love, but it was the next best thing.


	7. Chapter 7

_My goodness - you really like this story, don't you? Many, many thanks for all the amazing reviews and alerts_

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><p>"Come on then." Marty got to his feet and held out his hand. "I've got this huge bed that's much more comfortable than the floor. Bouncier too." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.<p>

Kensi felt uneasy at the thought of walking around the apartment completely naked, especially as Marty didn't seem to go in for any curtains or blinds at his windows. Jack had always insisted on turning out all the lights whenever they made love –no, she corrected herself, when they had sex. She now knew how mechanical their couplings had been; how unimaginative Jack had been and also how prescriptive he had been as to the proper responses required from his partner. Small wonder she'd never had an orgasm before. But all that had changed now: Marty had opened up a whole new world and there was no going back. Seeing how confident he was in his own skin gave her renewed courage and it was so easy to take hold of his hand, to feel the warmth of his grasp and to realise that any was possible. The only thing she had to expect was the unexpected, and that was just fine.

"You do have a lovely butt," she said dreamily as he led her into the bedroom.

"Ditto. In fact, you're just lovely. Want me to show you how much I love you?" _Wait a minute. Where the hell did that come from? But I think I got away with it – I don't think she noticed._

"Yes please." _Did I hear right? Did he just say what I think he just said? _"You weren't kidding about the bed, were you? It's huge."

"It's just the right size. Let me show you?" Once again, he held out his hand. "Come on, Kensi – this is me. This is _us_."

And it had been such a long time since anyone had said that. More than anything, Kensi missed being part of a couple, she was so tired of being alone – of waking up alone, and going to sleep alone. Yes, the bed was big, but at least she wouldn't be lonely tonight.

"How much did you say you wanted me?" He was teasing now.

"To infinity and beyond." She raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Think you can manage that?"

Marty felt reassured: this was the Kensi he knew and loved. Oh God – there it was again – that word: _loved_. Did he love her? Was he actually in any state to think about anything other than the fact that Kensi was draping herself on top of his body, with her skin that felt like satin and she was biting softly on his earlobe and then placing breathily erotic kisses all around the rim, so that his loins felt like melting butter. "You've got me exactly where you want me."

"Oh good." This was a whole new sensation for Kensi – being given the liberty to do whatever she wanted, without being judged, without being criticised, and she intended to take full advantage of it. And him. She loved the way Marty's body reacted to her entreaties, how he abandoned himself to her ministrations. Her whole world seemed to contract in on itself, so that nothing existed outside this room, this bed and the two people who had finally discovered one another after dancing around for far too long. Maybe this was love after all? She'd let Jack colour her life for too long, he'd fucked her up so badly. And now Kensi knew exactly how badly Jack fucked. Clearly the guy had some major problems, because Marty certainly didn't seem to have any problems getting an erection with her. In fact, all the evidence pointed to the fact he couldn't get enough of her.

"Don't stop," Marty groaned, as she traced one finger down the jut of his hip-bone, and only just managed to stop his hips bucking wildly when she finally touched him.

"What? This?" It was only a feather-light touch to his balls, Kensi thought.

"Uh huh."

"Or this?" She bent her head down and lazily licked around the head of his penis.

"Sweet Jesus." He nearly came, right there and then.

This was it, Kensi realised. Whatever "it" actually was. She didn't much care now, all she wanted was to feel Marty inside her and she suddenly realised that he was letting her make all the moves, to take control, set the pace, dictate exactly what was going to happen next. The sensation of power was a heady aphrodisiac, not that she needed one, of course. Just watching Marty get turned on was incredibly arousing. Kensi got onto her knees and straddled him, holding herself just out of reach.

"You're teasing me. Whipping me up into a state of frenzy." Marty's hands were resting lightly on her hips and he was smiling up at her. Kensi had never felt so powerful or so attractive in her life. This was exactly what she had been waiting for.

"Is that what I'm doing?" She reached down and guided him towards her, but kept her thighs tensed so that he was just barely inside her.

Marty gulped convulsively and she could feel his struggle not to thrust his hips up. "I'm yours, Kensi."

"You're mine," she agreed and lowered herself down slowly, taking him inside her inch by satisfying inch until she felt so full it was unreal. Only it was real. This was actually happening. This was her partner, Marty Deeks, and he'd made her feel like a real woman at last – a desirable woman. She crouched over and kissed him, and then straightened back up and started to rock gently back and forth, her eyes closed as she concentrated on all the amazing sensations. Marty reached up and covered her breasts with his hands and added his own impetus to the rhythm.

It was so damned perfect she could almost cry. And, if this wasn't love – then why did it feel so good? Of course, sometimes it was better not to think about things too deeply. Sometimes you just had to live in the moment, the precious, glorious moment that threatened to split your body and soul apart with the absolute perfection of everything was happening; the moment when your mind and body split apart and the whole world went wild.

"Was that alright?" Despite everything, when they lay in a boneless heap afterwards, Kensi still could not trust herself.

"Alright?" Marty knew he was in deep here. "Kensi, it was amazing. You were amazing. You are amazing." How could she not see what he saw – the girl lying looking at him with eyes that made the stars look as if they weren't shining.

"I think I love you." The words were so soft they weren't even a whisper.

He pulled her into his arms, melding his body into hers and she responded eagerly, as if seeking sanctuary. "I think I love you too."

In the hot still peace of the night the moon rose high in the sky and cast a silvery path onto the floor of the bedroom, highlighting the bed, the tousled sheets and the couple who lay sleeping there, limbs intertwined in perfect unity.

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><p><em>Now, if I was the kind of writer who liked things to be all nice and neat, I'd leave things exactly where they are right now - Kensi and Marty, sexually and emotinally fulfilled. But this is me, and you know what sort of stories I write, so guess what?<em>

_Unless, of course, you want me to stop here? let me know!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Back by popular demand! Your wishes are my command, dear readers._

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><p>Kensi was a light sleeper, and the pale, thin light of dawn woke her early the next morning. For a moment, she was confused and it took a few seconds to realise where she was and exactly why she was cocooned in Deek's arms. Not that she had any objections – none at all. She eased herself up onto the pillow and watched as her slight movement made his face contract momentarily into the merest suspicion of a pout. After a while, she judged it safe to ease out of bed and pad through into the bathroom. The instant she got up, he instinctively rolled in the space she'd occupied and lay spread-eagled across the bed, his face buried in the pillows.<p>

There was a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door: a surprisingly pristine white cotton robe, as crisp and fresh as if it had just come back from the laundry. When she put it on, the scents of sea air, sunshine and lemon zest seemed to envelop Kensi, as if Deeks' arms were once again around her and she hugged herself briefly, revelling in the newness of all this, the sense that absolutely anything could happen.

"Coffee!" The bed seemed to shake underneath him and for a moment Deeks wondered if there was another earthquake.

"Kensi?" He shook his head muzzily, trying to clear away the sleep. "You're still here?" There was a sense of complete and utter wonderment in his voice. Despite everything that had happened last night, he had never thought Kensi was the sort to stay over and he'd been more or less reconciled to waking up to a cold and empty bed.

"Of course I am." Kensi arranged her pillows so that she was leaning comfortably against the headboard and took a sip of her drink. "Your coffee's getting cold."

"Okay." Deeks pushed himself up onto his elbows briefly, and then collapsed back down. "No use. You've worn me out, woman." He grinned happily at her. "You took such shameless advantage of me last night."

"I know." Kensi caressed the broad plane of his shoulder blade and then let her hand rest on the nape of his neck, ruffling his hair, as she'd longed to do for so many months. "And you were powerless to resist me."

"Still am." A pressing urgency made itself known. "Hold that thought, will you?" He rolled out of bed and staggered woozily to the bathroom, completely unaware of the way her eyes followed his every move.

Kensi stared out of the window at the lemon and rose hues streaking the pale morning sky and heaved a deep sigh of contentment. Life seemed very sweet. And if she was living in the moment – then so what? They were both consenting adults, they'd done nothing wrong. On the contrary, they'd done everything right. Last night had been so damned perfect, it was as if they were destined to be together.

"Coffee?" Deeks settled himself beside her, so that they were lying side by side, as if they had been doing this for years. He accepted the cup gratefully and took a long swallow. "You were saying?" He nudged her foot with his own.

"I was saying how great last night was, Deeks."

"Ah yes, about last night." He leant his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

"What about it?" Her heart clenched in fear.

"You called me Marty." For some reason, that mattered. It really mattered.

Kensi could feel the tension seep back out of her body. "I did. I might even do it again. Should the need arise." She looked down at the thin sheet covering him. "Oh. I see it has." It was impossible to ignore. Her lips curved into a smile and her eyes shone with shameless anticipation. "Hey, Marty."

"Hey, you." So it was Marty in the bedroom, was it? Well, that was just fine. He dumped the coffee cup unceremoniously on the bedside cabinet. "Did anyone ever tell you how amazing you are?"

"You did. Last night." She couldn't look him in the eyes, couldn't believe that anyone, especially him, would think that.

"How about I tell you again?" He was kissing her, a whole plethora of kisses, starting just underneath her ear, in that soft part of her neck that set Kensi's pulse racing. "You're amazing." Marty punctuated his downwards progress. "There's not a thing I would change. Because you're amazing, Kensi, just the way you are."

She'd never made love with Jack in the early morning, because Jack liked things all neat and tidy – clean bodies, newly brushed teeth – and Kensi realised how much she'd missed. This was real life, and real life wasn't always fresh and minty. Sometimes it was hot and sweaty and just about two people who needed one another, needed each other with a deep, hard need that could not be denied.

"That's because you make me feel amazing, Marty." She ran her hands through his hair and was amazed to find she was ready, more than ready – she was literally aching for him. It had never happened this quickly before, but seemed as if Marty only had to touch her, or maybe even just look at her and she was longing for him. This was crazy. She was crazy and he was… he was gorgeous. And he was hers. For the moment, at least. And maybe that was enough? Only, in her heart Kensi knew that would never be enough. Marty had awoken something in her that had lain dormant for too long, and now she just couldn't get enough of him.

"Resistance is futile, Kensi." He'd never even suspected she could be like this – so receptive, so pliant so totally incredible.

"So take me, Marty," she invited. "Take me – I'm yours."

Marty didn't need to be told twice.

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><p><em>Ah - the sheer joy of it all! And no maims... yet. That's all I'm saying. I'm not promising there will be maims, I'm not promising there won't be maims. Evil plot bunny is chomping on my big toe and whinging "that's not fair", but I'm not listening to him.<em>


	9. Chapter 9

"It's a good thing you wake up so early," Deeks said as they jogged downstairs to their respective cars. Because otherwise, they would never have made it into work before midday at the earliest, and while one of them could have called in sick, they would never have heard the end of it if they'd both tried that. After their early morning love-making session, they'd had a quick breakfast and had started to get ready for work. Only the sight of Kensi standing in his shower, arms raised as she washed her hair and her breasts riding high and full was more than any man could bear, and really there had been no alternative but to join her. And one thing led to another, and now they were rushing out of the apartment, just like a normal couple.

Kensi stopped and threw her arms around his neck. "In the shower – that was so amazing." She'd never even thought of making love anywhere except the bed, until last night, on his living room floor. And making love four times in less than twelve hours was surely some sort of record? Well it was for her, although Deeks seemed to have managed just fine. Jack liked sex on Saturdays and Thursdays. Deeks just liked sex.

"Nothing like some good clean fun. So – am I Marty or Deeks today?" For some reason, that was still bothering him.

"While we're at work, you're Deeks – you have to be."

He wasn't going to argue with her. So she wanted to take things slowly – well, that was fine. He could do slow. "And tonight?"

With a start, Kensi realised that he was presuming this relationship was going to continue. And her soul sang out. She didn't think she could have borne it if this had just been a one-night stand. "Tonight you're mine, all mine, Marty Deeks."

"Good enough." He watched her walk off to her car, wearing a white shirt of his and looking so damned hot it was untrue. Was it his imagination, or was there an extra wiggle in her walk? Deeks watched her drive off and then waited five minutes before setting off himself. She didn't want to arouse suspicion – alright, he could deal with that. It wasn't like Kensi was ashamed of what she'd done. Or was it? Could Kensi be having second thoughts? Puzzling over this, Deeks drove towards the Mission, wondering why his world had to be so damned complicated.

"Afternoon, Deeks. Nice of you to join us." Sam raised his head briefly when Deeks breezed in. "One of these days you'll bring in coffee for the rest of us."

"How about the day after you notice I'm always in before nine – you know, 9 am? The time we're supposed to report in for?"

"A good agent would be here early, Deeks, just in case."

"I'm not a good agent though – I'm a wonderful liaison. In case you'd forgotten."

"Liaison, I'll give you that. But wonderful – no way. Seriously deluded, maybe."

"Oh God – would you two just stop it? If I'd wanted to be a kindergarten teacher or a referee, then I wouldn't be sitting here listening to your juvenile name-calling, would I?" Kensi buried her head in her hands and hoped nobody would notice she'd not styled her hair this morning and had just pulled it back into a loose ponytail. For some reason, Deeks didn't even have a hairdryer, far less any styling products. Wouldn't Sam just love to know that? He and Callen had a long running bet about Deeks hair and whether its seemingly casual appearance was actually artfully enhanced. Only she couldn't say anything, because that would give the whole game away. This was like going undercover, Kensi thought and sneaked a look a Deeks from underneath her lashes. He returned her gaze blandly.

"Don't tell me – I've got foam from my latte on my mustache?"

"Is that what you call it?" Sam asked.

"No, actually I call it Norman."

"Callen!" Kensi practically leapt out of her seat with joy. "Save me from this madness."

"Wish I could." He looked over at Deeks. "How is he?"

"As annoying as ever. Do you really have to ask?"

Callen looked at her curiously. "He seemed pretty cut up yesterday," he reminded her. "We were all worried about him, remember?"

"Yeah, well he's fine now." _Just drop it, alright Callen?_

"You said you were going to go over and see him last night."

"And?" _Oh God – he knows._

By now, Callen was getting seriously worried. Was Kensi ill or something? She seemed more than a little flaky this morning and her eyes were sparkling. And it might have been his imagination, but was her skin flushed? "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? I'm fine, Deeks is fine, we're both fine. Nothing happened, alright?" _Well nothing except Deeks and I made the earth move. Four times. And I'm having a bit of trouble walking today._

"Except Kensi drank too much tequila. And then she insisted on eating the worm at the bottom of the bottle. Which she chewed – very, very slowly." Deeks leaned back in his chair and gave Callen a wide grin. "She's got a stomach like cast-iron, I'll say that for her. But apart from me throwing up at the sight of that, nothing happened. Except for the strip poker, of course."

"Very funny, Deeks," Kensi managed through gritted teeth.

"So, who won?" Sam asked curiously.

"Well, I was down to my tighty-whities and Kensi was wearing her basque when I drew this great hand and…"

"Liar. You weren't wearing any underwear at all, Deeks." A look of complete horror crept over Kensi's face and she stood rooted to the spot in abject misery.

"What can I say? I don't like panty lines showing. I always think "what would Paris Hilton do?". She's a great role model. You really can't go wrong if you follow her example." Deeks tried to deflect their attention from Kensi's faux pas.

"You've got a tape of you and Kensi playing strip poker then?" Callen grinned at the mental image, even if he knew Deeks was only spinning them a tale. Because if he really had seen Kensi in her scanties, then it was doubtful he would have lived to tell the tale. Callen had always seen Kensi as somewhat of a man-eater. Only, and now he began to wonder, how the hell did Kensi know Deeks went commando? The more he thought about it, the more Callen began to wonder about what had actually gone on between them last night.


	10. Chapter 10

"Nothing happened," Kensi protested and Deeks felt like hitting his head of the desk in sheer frustration. Couldn't she just keep her mouth shut, just for once? Why did she always have to have the last word? "There was no tequila, no strip poker. Alright?"

Deeks could see from the looks on their faces that Callen and Sam didn't buy that for one single minute, and he didn't blame them. Okay, it was time for some more damage control. "We just had sex. Four times. I was amazing." He shot a wide beam around the group.

Sam patted him condescendingly on the shoulder. "Good one. Kensi almost had me going there."

"But you gave the game away. Four times? Yeah, right." There was no way Deeks would be so bright-eyed and bushy tailed if that was true, Callen thought. "You just can't help yourself, can you Deeks?"

"Sad but true. I can resist everything but temptation." Deeks was very careful not to look at Kensi "the lady doth protest too much" Blye.

Eric leant over the railings and blew his favourite whistle very loudly. Deeks hated that whistle and had a favourite fantasy wherein he took it and made very sure Eric would never use it again without surgical intervention. "You're not going to believe this."

"We already know," Callen called up. "Kensi told us."

"Kensi?" Eric looked confused. He would have thought she'd have looked more concerned. After all, Deeks was her partner.

"Yeah – she let it slip that Deeks goes commando."

"Only sometimes," Deeks corrected. He felt it was important to get that point across, although he wasn't altogether sure why. "And since when were my underwear habits a suitable subject for a public announcement?" _Next thing I know, they'll be asking me if I dress to the left or the right._

"Since never." Eric gave them a blank look. "I don't know what you're all talking about, but I've got news about Nicole Martindale." _I just hope Deeks changes his pants regularly if he doesn't wear any underwear._

Deeks was out of his chair and up the steps like a greyhound that has just seen the rabbit let loose round the racetrack. "Nicole? What's happened to her?" Despite everything Nicole had done, he still couldn't forget the woman she'd once been. And, in the end she'd tried to make amends. She knew it was over, that it had never been real. He'd screwed her up and in some way, Deeks felt he owed her. He just wasn't quite sure what he owed her, that was the only problem.

Kensi busied herself at the coffee pot, carefully making sure her back was turned. She'd seen the look in Deeks' eyes, the way he sprinted up the stairs and heard the anxiety in his voice. He clearly still had feelings for Nicole. And she'd thought last night had been special. She should have known better. Deeks was just another player, and she'd played right into his hands. Well, the only consolation was that at least she wasn't in love with him. Last night had been fun, nothing more. It wasn't like she'd lost her heart to him. In fact, right now she wasn't even sure that she even liked him. Two-timing bastard. She lagged upstairs behind the others, her heart in her boots.

"LAPD have let Ms Martindale go, without pressing any charges."

"What?" Callen thumped the table in disbelief. "How could they do that?"

"She co-operated," Deeks said quietly. "She gave us the information, she let us set up the whole thing."

"You did a deal with LAPD, didn't you?" Kensi didn't believe she was hearing this. "You managed to sweet talk some patsy in the DA's office into letting your fuck-bunny walk out of this scot free. For Christ's sake, Deeks – have you completely lost the plot?" _What were you thinking, Marty? Can't you see how dangerous she is? No, you weren't thinking, were you? Not with your head anyway._

"It was my call." He was fighting to control his temper. "And it was agreed in advance. By NCIS and LAPD."

"Agreed by me." Hetty folded her arms. "Any objections, Ms Blye?" _Hetty was normally an excellent judge of character but she was about to learn what a big mistake she had just made._

"Have I any objections? Well, apart from the fact that you've paired me with this idiot who thinks with his dick, how about the fact you've let a woman who set up a contract kill walk away from that scot-free? Is that enough to be going on with?" Kensi was like a runaway train with a full head of steam.

"That's it." Deeks whacked his fist down on the table. "You've gone too far this time." He wasn't quite sure which remark had annoyed him the most, the crack about Nicole or the crack about him. Kensi had really hit below the belt this time. It was a good thing he wasn't in love with her, because right now he didn't even like her much. "I'm out of here," he muttered and stormed out of the room. He'd never felt quite so close to Max Gentry before. Max would have lost it completely, gone berserk and to hang with the consequences. And it was so tempting to give in to the rage that was boiling up inside him. _How could she say that? Is that what she really thinks about me? What a bloody fool I am. I really thought I'd got it made._ The sweet taste left over from last night evaporated in an instant, leaving only a sour bitterness.

"Well?" Kensi glared at the remainder of her team. "Am I the only one who thinks Deeks has completely lost the plot?"

"I think you need to take a deep breath and calm down," Hetty said calmly.

"I'm fine." She needed to keep stoking the fires of her rage, to nurse her wrath and keep it warm.

"You aren't listening to me, Ms Blye. I told you to calm down. That wasn't a suggestion, it was an order."

Callen took hold of her arm. "Kensi – you're too close to this. Stand back."

"He's my partner." Her jaw set stubbornly, Kensi refused to back down. "I'm worried about what Nicole might do to him."

"How about you stop to think about what you just said might do to Deeks? Because whatever happened between the two of you last night, you have to put it to one side. This is serious. You do realise you've just sent Deeks out there in a tearing rage?"

"God knows where he's gone." Sam looked across at Eric. "Any chance you can trace his cell?"

With a sinking heart, Kensi realised that she knew exactly where Deeks would be. And with whom.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you SO much for all the amaxing reviews!_

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><p>She started running, running as fast as she could, pushing people out of the way as she tore down the stairs, careening through the ground floor of the Mission and out through the doors. Ahead of her she could see Deeks, standing perfectly still, facing a wall and with his hands balled into fists. He was safe. He had not gone rushing over to see Nicole, putting himself in danger. There was indeed a God. She slowed down and walked over towards where Deeks stood staring at the wall, wondering if he should just save everyone the bother and go hit his own head off it.<p>

"Marty?"

"Oh, it's Marty now, is it? I thought you were too embarrassed to be caught calling me that in public? But wait a minute." He turned round and did a quick scan of the area. "There's nobody around, so that's alright. You can emerge with your reputation intact. Little Miss Perfect. Who'd never be caught with an idiot like me." He practically spat the words out and Kensi took an involuntary step backwards.

"That's not what I meant," she pleaded. "It just came out wrong."

Deeks laughed at that, but it was a sound totally without mirth. "You're right about that. But don't worry, I got the message. Even an idiot like me couldn't misunderstand. Thanks for setting me straight about how you really feel."

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. It seems we get on a hell of a lot better when we're not talking. When we're just doing the business – that's when we get on best." Deeks glared at her.

"That's not true. Listen – I was worried about you, that's all." Because she certainly didn't feel anything else for Deeks. Even if he was incredibly hot when he was angry. All that barely suppressed rage was seriously sexy. Kensi could only begin to imagine what making love to him when he was in a tearing mood would be like. Because Jack had managed to make sex a mechanical, passionless affair. How weird that they were having an argument out in the parking lot and she was getting turned on by it all. There was something very wrong here, very wrong indeed. Why was Deeks messing with her mind like this?

"You were worried about me? Worried I'd show you up, more like."

"No, I was worried about what Nicole might do to you."

"Oh come on. Just leave Nicole out of this. It's got nothing to do with her."

"It's got everything to do with her," Kensi protested. _Why do you have to wear these blinkers, Marty? Why do you have to be so blind when it comes to Nicole?_

It hit Deeks with all the subtlety of a house brick slamming into his face. "You're jealous, aren't you?" Despite himself, he began to smile. _She's so cute when she's mad._

"Jealous? Of Nicole? You must be joking. I'm not jealous – I'm mad." Kensi walked back towards him and stood so close that their bodies were touching and she was staring him directly in the eyes with an unflinching regard. "I'm mad with you because you can't see what Nicole's really like. And I'm mad because she's wormed her way into your heart and you feel guilty about what you did. And…" _And why are we talking about Nicole?_

"And what?" Deeks was beginning to calm down a bit. It had nothing to do with the fact Kensi was so close that he could feel her breath on his face and smell the scent of his shampoo in her hair, and it most definitely had nothing to with the way she nibbled at her bottom lip in a way that made him want to just pull her into his arms.

"And I'm mad about you. You jerk." Kensi turned around and started to walk away again. "Are you happy now?"

"Oh, I'm ecstatic. You've made my day. Tell me, Kensi – just out of interest -if this is how you tell someone you love them, what the hell do you say when you're dumping them?"

"I never said I loved you. I don't love you Deeks."

"Come here and tell me that." She looked at him, standing with his feet slightly apart, thumbs caught in the front pockets of his jeans and a cbig ocky grin on his face, just so fucking confident it was untrue. _Who does he think he is?_

"No problem." She was back in front of him, poking him in the chest to emphasise each word. "I. Don't. Love. You. Deeks." The final jabs was hard enough that he thought it would probably leave a bruise. "Is that clear enough?"

"You're talking to an idiot who thinks with his dick, remember? How about you tell me again? And call me Marty this time."

He was smirking, Kensi realised. He was actually smirking. Like he thought he knew her so well. And he didn't know the first thing about her. She could feel her blood pressure rising. Why did he have to taunt her like this? Didn't he know that was the worst possible thing he could do. "I don't love you, Marty." Her hands were firmly behind her back, so that there was no way he could see that all her fingers were crossed.

The smile on Deeks' face grew broader. "You really are a terrible liar. I knew that the first moment I saw you, remember? In the gym. You were so unconvincing it wasn't true. I could see straight though you then and I can see straight through you know."

"The other guys believed me," Kensi countered.

"That's because they were so busy looking at your breasts they didn't pay any attention to what you were saying. But I know better. I know you."

"Don't flatter yourself. You don't know a thing about me." That damned smirk was back on his face again, Kensi saw. He looked so smug that she couldn't quite make up her mind if she wanted to slap him or snog him.

Deeks continued on blithely, as if she'd not said a word. "I know that all I have to do is kiss you right here…" His lips found the exactly spot on her neck that turned Kensi's knees to water. "And you're helpless. You know it and I know it." He kissed her again, moving slightly to the left this time, so that his lips were that much closer to her own. "Tell me again how much you don't love me," he coaxed and his tongue traced a pattern of fire down to where her pulse was beating rapidly under her skin.

"Oh for the love of God, just kiss her properly and get it over," Sam called out. He was getting fed up watching this.

"Better still, go get a room."

"Not while they're still on duty," Hetty said primly. She grabbed hold of Sam and Callen and started to march them back inside. "You have ten minutes," she called back over her shoulder. "Go and get yourselves a coffee and come back ready to work." Ten minutes was a nicely judged period of time: long enough to let them clear their heads, yet too short for any real hanky-panky, she thought.

"I wonder if Deeks is wearing any underwear today?" Callen mused.

Hetty sighed deeply. "He won't be for very much longer, judging by the way Ms Blye keeps looking at him." She marched briskly inside, delighting in the fact she could still shock her agents to the core. She was still smiling when she heard the screech of brakes coming from outside, followed instantly by a loud thumping noise and then a scream. Hetty starting running, her gun unholstered and in her hand. She wasn't smiling any more.

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><p><em>Evil plot bunny is very happy now.<em>


	12. Chapter 12

"Before or after?" Deeks asked, taking Kensi by the hand and walking out of the Mission grounds.

"Before or after what?" She tugged her hand free, annoyed that once again he'd managed to get to her. Deeks had pulled her into that embrace and she'd done nothing to stop him. _What the hell is wrong with me? He's not that great at kissing. So how come I went all weak at the knees and almost forgot to keep breathing?_

"Coffee, of course. Do you want to tell me again how much you don't love me before we have coffee or wait until afterwards?" _Come on Kensi, just give a smile, would you? I'm trying so hard here – won't you meet me halfway?_

That infuriating grin was back on his face again and Kensi could feel the palm of her hand just itching to slap him. "How many times do I have to tell you?" she asked wearily. _Would you just stop pushing, please? I can resist you. Of course I can. You're not going to get anywhere with me. I'm not falling for your charm. Not again. Look where it got me last time – right into your arms and having the best sex of my life, that's where. _

"Until I believe you. We were great together, Kensi. We _are_ great together,"Deeks corrected and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, don't be so stubborn, Fern." He pulled her closer and could feel her body meld into his and it just felt so right, like they were made for each other.

"Me? Stubborn?" Kensi couldn't believe what she was hearing. _And this is coming from the man who pouts whenever he doesn'tt get his own way, like some cute little kid. Even if he does look so adorable that the merest hint of a petulant expression makes me want to vault across the desks and kiss him like crazy. _

"Yes, you. You're stubborn. As stubborn as a mule." The coffee shop was just in sight across the road and Deeks could almost smell the aromas already, making his mouth water. But not as much as when he looked at Kensi, all righteous indignation. "Mine's a triple shot latte, by the way."

"Buy your own damned coffee." Kensi strode on ahead, shrugging off his arm. "And don't call me Fern." _Was he born this annoying or does he practice?_

The car came from nowhere. If nowhere was a standing start from idle. There was a scream of rapidly rotating tires and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, but this was all within a spilt second and by that time Kensi was in the middle of the road, watching in horror as the car suddenly drove right across the lanes and into the oncoming traffic, heading directly towards her. And then she was hit broadside on, not by the car but by another rapidly moving mass that propelled her forwards, out of danger and onto her hands and knees.

_Great. My favourite pair of jeans and I've gone straight through the knees._

She rolled automatically, coming back up onto her feet and tried to ignore the stinging sensation of road rash as she pulled her gun out and took aim at the car, which did a screeching handbrake turn and screamed back towards them. Kensi fired off three shots in rapid succession as Deeks moved as quickly as if all the hounds of hell were after him. Her first shot hit the windshield, punching a perfect hole just to the left of the driver's head and she instantly made the necessary minute adjustment and fired again, even as Deeks was clipped on his hip and went hurtling across the hood in an uncoordinated mass of flailing limbs. Her third shot was a text-book shot to the head. If she'd been on the firing range, under optimum conditions it couldn't have been any better. Under any other circumstances, Kensi would have celebrated that shot.

All around her the traffic was in chaos as she ran to where Deeks lay on the road, hauling out her badge and yelling "Federal Agent". That wasn't enough to stop one woman screeching in terror like a demented banshee as Kensi sprinted towards her, gun still drawn and with a look on her face reminiscent of an avenging angel in some medieval allegorical portrait.

"Marty?" Kensi dropped down beside him and suppressed a wince as her grazed knees protested. He was lying on one side, and his hair was wildly dishevelled, covering his face. And there was blood on the ground beneath him. Tentatively, she reached out and placed two fingers on his neck, holding her breath as she searched for a pulse.

"Kensi?" Callen and Sam were beside her, as Hetty trotted along gamely in their wake, barking orders into her cell. "What the hell happened?"

"Someone in a car tried to take us out. I shot him. But not before he hit Deeks." For some reason her hand moved of its own accord, so that it was smoothing the hair back off his face. "He went right over the hood." God, he looks exactly like he'd done last night, when he was sleeping. There was that same sweetly unguarded expression on his face that she'd stared at for ages, matching her breathing patterns to his and rejoicing in the wonderfulness of life. All that seemed a very long time ago now, and as if it had happened to different people.

As Kensi watched, Deeks' eyelids fluttered briefly and then opened fully. "What hit me?" he asked groggily and started to try to get up, in a rather shambolic sort of way, because for some reason his arms and legs weren't working properly. And there was the small matter of this nagging ache in his hip.

"Lie still, Marty. Please." Kensi put her other hand on his hip to try to stop him moving around and possibly doing more damage and he promptly let out a sharp yelp of pain. It looked like she wasn't going to be able to kiss this one better.

Callen looked over at the car and took a good look at the driver. "You were right about Nicole being dangerous. Maybe she decided that if she couldn't have Deeks, then nobody was going to have him?"

And under different circumstances Kensi would have told him that not only did she not have Deeks, she didn't even want him, but right now she was too busy holding onto his hand and kissing each finger in turn to even think about anything else.


	13. Chapter 13

Kensi didn't love Marty Deeks, she knew that. You didn't fall in love with someone overnight, or even after one night of utterly perfect love. It was ridiculous even to suggest such a thing. She was a mature, rational woman. The authorities trusted her to carry a gun, for crying out loud. So why would she behave like some moonstruck teenager? She certainly didn't believe in falling in love at first sight, and even if she did, it certainly wouldn't happen in some stupid gym that smelled of ancient sweat and over-powering machismo. You couldn't call it love, when it was just a fling, an impromptu affair. No, she wasn't in love, she was just worried about her partner, that was all. In the same way that Sam would be upset if Callen was injured, or vice versa. It was no different to that at all. And if she kept telling herself that enough times, then maybe she might start to believe it, no matter how unlikely it seemed. Because there was no reason to love him, no reason at all. Except for the fact that her heart seemed to sing every single time she saw him. And when she was with Marty, Kensi felt as if she could bear anything and believe everything.

"I still don't see why they wouldn't let me go with Deeks in the ambulance," she complained, for the tenth time, by Sam's reckoning.

"Because there wasn't room," Callen said patiently, also for the tenth time. Sam just stared at the road ahead and concentrated on his driving.

"Hetty didn't have to go."

"Hetty obviously thought she did. And she is down as his next of kin."

"I'm his partner. That trumps next of kin."

"You're not playing cards, Kensi. And anyway, you heard what the paramedics said – he wasn't in any immediate danger." Callen exchanged a look with Sam: _is Kensi on edge or what? She's clearly got it bad._ Sam nodded in agreement.

"That could mean anything." Kensi nibbled away on the thumbnail. She couldn't stop thinking about how Marty had looked, lying there in the road, in a puddle of his own blood

"He'll be fine. And we're nearly there now."

"Good. You drive like an old lady, Sam."

Sam bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but he did manage not to say anything he might regret later. He could understand how worried Kensi was: Deeks had looked pretty bad, lying there with limbs sprawled every which way, and the paramedics had insisted on using a backboard. They'd said it was just a precaution, but you never knew. You just never knew what was going to happen in this job. One minute everything was fine, the next minute the world had turned upside down and you were hanging onto sanity by your fingernails. He glanced in the rear-view mirror and thought that if Kensi kept chewing on her fingers like that, she wasn't going to have any nails left. It was a relief to pull into the hospital car park.

"I told him Nicole was dangerous. But would he listen?" Kensi stormed along the seemingly endless corridor, following the red line on the floor that led to the emergency department.

"Don't say that to him, Kensi." _Jesus, it's like she a kamikaze pilot or something,_ Sam thought. _She just can't resist pressing the old self-destruct button._

"It's the truth, isn't it? And sometimes the truth hurts."

"Love hurts too." Callen had no idea where that came from, and he could feel hot colour flooding his face. _I sound like some piece of chick-lit. Bad chick-lit._

"I'm not in love with Deeks."

"Okay, you're not in love with him. You're stuck on him, smitten with him – whatever the hell you are with him. We get it. But what about Deeks?" He'd started, so he might as well finish, Callen thought, hoping Kensi wouldn't call him out on the irony of G Callen giving relationship advice. G Callen whose own relationships ever lasted more than six weeks. Well, if she did – then he could tell her just how much he'd learned over the years. _Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover_ was almost his theme song.

"What about Deeks?"

"have you ever stopped to think about he feels about all this? Maybe he's in love with you?"

Kensi stopped and stared down at the floor. "No, he's in love with Nicole. Not me."

Sam decided it was time this nonsense stopped. "Do you want to beat some sense into her, or shall I, Callen?"

"Kensi – if you're going to live in some sort of alternate universe, at least make it a happy one, why don't you?"

And there it was: the reason why she wouldn't commit, why she couldn't commit. "Because I don't want to get hurt again?" Kensi said miserably. She'd been there once, she'd been burned and she was never going back there again. Why expose herself to unnecessary pain and heartbreak?

"Your logic is seriously flawed. Just because Jack messed you up is no reason to stop yourself from being happy."

"You don't understand! It was different… you couldn't possibly understand how I feel. Anyway, you're men."

Callen badly wanted to shake her, but he restrained himself. "And men don't have feelings? Gee, thanks for explaining that to me. Just because we don't talk about things much doesn't mean anything. I've had my heart broken so has Sam – everyone has. It's called being alive. You're no different to anyone else, Kensi. But you're making yourself different, telling yourself you've suffered more than anyone else. Well, wake up to reality. You've got a choice – but it's up to you. And if you walk away now, then make sure you know exactly what you're doing. Because sometimes you don't get a second chance."

Sam gave him a jubilant high-five. "Way to go with the soul searching, Callen. And Kensi? Just because you've been screwed over doesn't mean you have to screw everyone else over, alright? Particularly if they actually mean something to you." He felt that summed things up rather nicely, without going into all that touchy-feely stuff. Sam didn't really want to venture into the realms of romance and true love. Except in the privacy of his own apartment, with Barry White's velvet tones in the background. No, he'd keep his sensitive-side well under wraps, thank you very much. Besides which, Callen did it so darned well. It was like he had _The First Cut Is the Deepest_ on replay in his soul.

"You guys think you know it all, don't you?" Kensi mumbled. _I trust him with my life, pretty much every day. He saved my life today. Maybe I can trust him with my heart?_

Just then, a set of doors swung open and Deeks was wheeled out on a gurney. Everything else seemed irrelevant. In that instant Kensi knew that she was in love. For better or for worse.

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><p><em>Slushy plot bunny is weeping tears of joy. He doesn't seem to realise that his evil brother is still lurking in the background...<em>


	14. Chapter 14

_A small smidgeon, as I'm having a dinner party tonight and need to get started on the preparations. The bunnies have been banished to the garden, just in case... while i am ever so partial to maimed Deeks, I'd prefer my guests to depart in one piece._

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><p>"Ah, Ms Blye. I was hoping to find you here." Hetty managed to interpose herself between Kensi and the object of her affections. All she could glimpse was a shock of blond hair and a disturbing amount of medical equipment. "Now, while Mr Deeks is in surgery, you really must get yourself seen to."<p>

"I'm fine," Kensi protested but Hetty was implacable. She simply took hold of the younger woman's elbow and propelled her forwards, so that Kensi had no option but to obey, casting a look of pure and unadulterated longing over her shoulder. _Look after him. Because I've got something important to tell him._

"If you won't take proper care of yourself, then it is my responsibility to step in," Hetty was explaining kindly and Kensi fought back an urge to smack her. "You don't want these cuts in on your hands and knees to get infected, do you?"

Actually, right now Kensi wouldn't have cared much if she got septicaemia and gangrene. "I wanted to see Deeks." Despite her best intentions, Kensi was fully aware of how pathetic she sounded.

"He's unconscious, my dear. The doctors say he's got a concussion."

That wasn't exactly a surprise, given that Kensi was practically certain, he'd hit his head off the windshield. "Is he going to be alright?"

Hetty smiled at her and then squeezed her hand, which really said it all. "They're taking him to surgery. I'm afraid Mr Deeks suffered some other, more serious injuries." As she listened to her boss, Kensi was aware that the world was suddenly behaving in a most peculiar fashion, telescoping in on itself, so that she appeared to be peering down a very long and very dark tunnel. Hetty was still talking, but her voice was so faint that Kensi couldn't make out a single word. Her head was spinning and she simply couldn't concentrate. It really was incredibly strange.

"Ms Blye? Kensi?" Hetty watched in horror as Kensi went sheet-white and crumpled down onto the ground. Great, now she was fifty-percent down on her agents. Well, at least they were in the right place, she thought with a weary resignation, and called for help. _And this is the woman who's been denying that she's in love? Well, it looks like she's answered that question rather emphatically._

"What happened?" Callen asked. "What did you say to her?" Hetty chose to ignore the rather accusatory tone in his voice and watched as he knelt down and patted Kensi gently on the cheek.

"Nothing. I merely said that Mr Deeks was going to surgery. And then she passed out."

Sam rolled his eyes. "And you were honestly surprised?" _So how come women always prize themselves on their feminine intuition?_

"I was honestly surprised," Hetty said firmly. "Maybe she felt guilty?"

The two agents exchanged puzzled looks. "Okay, why would Kensi feel guilty? It was Nicole who tried to kill him."

Hetty suddenly realised that they only knew a part of the story. "Unfortunately, it was Ms Blye's bullet that wounded Mr Deeks."

Lying on the cold hospital floor, Kensi was just starting to come round from her faint and heard this damning statement. It seemed easier just to keep her eyes shut and lie still, wondering if she could possibly have messed things up any more if she'd actually tried.


	15. Chapter 15

_Fantastic dinner party last night! Good friends, good chat and loads of wine._

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><p>"Come on, Kensi, you can't avoid him forever." Callen peeked through the glass panel in the door and saw that Deeks was lying sprawled on his stomach, the bedclothes pulled up over his shoulders and giving every indication of being soundly asleep.<p>

"Not forever, no… " Kensi responded slowly. "But he's probably still feeling ill and I'm the last person he'll want to see." She was still feeling incredibly guilty.

"You heard what Hetty said, didn't you?" Sam said briskly. He and Callen were carefully positioned one on either side of her, so that there was no escape. "We couldn't see Deeks yesterday because the concussion meant he was throwing up. But he's wounded and we're here and we're going to visit him." The words "whether you like it or not" hung unspoken in the air between them.

"You're his partner." Callen reached forward and opened the door. "So you can go on in and say 'hi' to the wounded hero first. And be nice."

Kensi found a hand planted firmly in the middle of her back that propelled her into the hospital room. Maybe he was still asleep and she could just lurk here for a couple of minutes without saying anything and then make her escape? She really didn't think she could face Deeks, not today, not knowing what she had done. The three bullets she'd fired at the scene of the accident had all been recovered; two from the car, with one in the very dead Nicole Martindale's head and the other found embedded in the driver's seat. The remaining bullet had been removed from Deeks. Yup, she'd committed the cardinal sin: she'd shot her partner. It still made Kensi shudder to think how easily things could have been so very different: that same bullet could so easily have killed him. She could have killed him.

She stood awkwardly inside the room until Sam pushed her forward. "You've got visitors!" he announced in an artificially cheery voice.

"Go away," the mound in the bed said, without moving. Deeks lay with his face buried in the pillows, resolutely refusing to look at them.

"No can do." Callen pulled up a chair and pushed Kensi down into it. "We brought you grapes and everything."

"Only Kensi ate them, didn't you?"

"I did not!" Despite her earlier vow of silence, Kensi couldn't help herself.

At the sound of her voice there was a rustle of fabric and a small movement as Deeks moved his head marginally to look at her. His hair was looking more shaggily dishevelled than ever, Kensi thought, giving new meaning to the phrase "bed head hair. The last time she'd seen him looking like this, she'd been lying in bed beside him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked suspiciously.

"I've come to see you."

"You've seen me. So you can go now." He pulled the covers back over his head.

"We're here too," Sam reminded the lump in the bed.

"You can go too. You've seen me, so you can all go away and have a good laugh about it, alright? But don't expect me to like it."

"Laugh?" Kensi had never felt less like laughing in her life. "Why would we laugh about anything? You're lying here in hospital, wounded and you think we're laughing at you?"

Callen racked his brains to try to find a logical explanation for Deeks behaviour. "They must be giving him the good drugs."

"They're not good enough," the disembodied voice said. "I can still remember what happened, every time I move."

"We're not going until we've seen you properly," Sam informed him. "Hiding under the sheets doesn't count."

"I'm not hiding." Deeks flung back the sheets and glared at him. "Okay, you've seen me. So you can go back to the Mission and tell everyone and have a good laugh."

Kensi wondered if she'd moved into a parallel universe. "Why do you think we're going to be laughing at you, Marty?"

"Don't come over all coy; it really doesn't suit you. You want me to spell it out for you? Okay: you shot me in the butt, Kensi. In the fucking butt. Are you happy now?" That shot had to have been deliberate, of course it did. Kensi was always wanting to demonstrate what a good shot she was. _I'm not daft, even if I was stupid enough to fall in love with you, Kensi. Well, I'm done: I'm done with you and I'm done with NCIS. I don't need to be made a laughing-stock. And it bloody well hurts._ God, he felt ill, really gut-wrenching ill, like he just wanted to curl up and die quietly. So why wouldn't they just all go away and leave him in peace?

His truculent attitude suddenly all made sense. "Hetty didn't tell us that. All she said was that you'd got a nasty flesh wound in the upper thigh." Despite making valiant attempts at keeping a straight face, Callen couldn't help the corners of his mouth rising slightly at the corners.

"See, this is exactly what I knew would happen," Deeks moaned, having seen his reaction. He attempted to turn over and yelped as his injured butt inadvertently came in contact with the mattress.

"I shot you in the butt?" Kensi didn't even find this mildly amusing, far less funny. She just kept thinking of him naked in his apartment, and how cute his butt was – taut and pert and so damned tempting she could bite into it like a nectarine. _Oh God, I've probably scarred him for life. No wonder he hates me._

"You shot me in the butt," Deeks confirmed. He managed to sit up, carefully balancing all his weight on one buttock. "And even an idiot like me who only thinks with his dick can take the hint. So thanks for making it clear. I won't bother asking you to tell me how much you don't love me, because I've got the message loud and clear. I just wish I wasn't so slow on the uptake." His eyes were blazing and his face was flushed and Kensi really, really wished Callen and Sam would employ some subtlety in their lives and just go away and leave them alone. Deeks was sitting there in bed, not wearing a shirt or anything and, given the location of his wound, probably not wearing anything else and even if he did hate her, he still looked so hot it was taking every ounce of her self-control not to jump his bones. He was sitting there in bed, stark staring naked and as mad as hell and Kensi wanted him so badly it hurt. She wanted to lie down in the bed beside him and take him in her arms and hold him for the longest time, and just make everything better. She wanted to kiss his butt better.

"Okay – you know how I said I was mad about you? Well Marty Deeks, now I'm mad _at_ you. Really mad. So how about you just shut up and let me kiss you?"

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><p><em>yup, I shot Deeks in the butt. Well, technically Kensi did and it was evil plot bunny who insisted that I write this piece, but still... However, please note that his hair is stil unfeasibily gorgeous. So that's alright then. You win some, you lose some. And Deeks is terribly winsome. I'd don't blame Kensi for wanting to kiss his butt better.<em>


	16. Chapter 16

"I hit my head," he said petulantly. "Really hard. I had concussion and everything. Remind me not to do that again, will you? Looking expectantly at Kensi, he asked "So, who I am?" For therein lay the rub. Exactly who was he to Kensi – Deeks, her partner, or Marty, her lover?

Kensi could see a familiar glint in his eyes as she sat on the bed beside him. "You're Marty. And you're my partner." As she watched, his lips lost the pout and started to curve into a smile. She took hold of his hand and winced. "And you're burning up, Marty. You've got a fever." His hand radiated a hot, dry heat and the sparkle in his eyes took on a new significance. She bounced of the bed, not realising that the movement jostled the patient and left him suppressing a yelp of pain, and rushed out towards the nurses' station.

"She's on the warpath," Sam said laconically. "Resistance is futile. You'd better just lie back and surrender." He laid a casual hand on Deeks' forehead and winced when he felt how hot he was.

"Don't do that." Deeks brushed his hand away. "You're not my mom."

"Neither am I," Callen informed him, also moving over to test exactly how feverish Deeks was. "But I'm still going to make sure you're alright." Deeks didn't put up even a token resistance as Callen laid the back of his hand gently on his forehead and then against one cheek. "And you're not, are you Deeks? Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"How am I supposed to know I've got a fever?" Deeks asked reasonably. "All of me feels hot. I just put it down to the fact that this place is heated like a tropical hothouse. And my butt really hurts." He looked at them curiously. "Hetty really didn't tell you I was shot in the butt?"

"She really didn't tell us. And it could have been worse."

"Like how?" Deeks asked sceptically. The prospect of sitting on a rubber ring for the next couple of weeks didn't exactly fill him with joy.

"180 degrees. Think about it."

Deeks thought. And then winced. "Okay, I'll give you that one. But she wouldn't have shot me there. Not on purpose, anyway. Not even Kensi would do that."

"I wouldn't do what, exactly?" Kensi had returned, with a discomfited nurse in tow.

"Shot Deeks on purpose. We were just explaining to him how it was an accident."

"Agent Blye informs me you're running a temperature," the nurse said. The male nurse. Kensi had taken a quick look at the female staff manning (womaning? personing?) the nurses' station and comprising two blondes and stunning brunette, before honing in on the sole male member of staff. She wasn't taking any chances, even if Deeks was sick. After all, this whole trouble probably had its root in the fact Nicole had turned up at his door all those years ago bearing chicken soup when he had the flu. Kensi didn't believe in tempting fate and she knew only too well how easy it was to fall for his golden tongue. _Oh God, his wicked tongue and the way it felt when we kissed… there should be a law against how good it felt. _

"If Agent Blye says so, then it must be true. You can trust her. Even if she isn't a doctor." Deeks realised he felt shattered and leant carefully back against the pillows. "So how about you give me a couple of Tylenol and then we can see about getting me discharged?" he cajoled.

Kensi suspected the wheedling, combined with the copious amounts of charm Deeks could produce at the snap of his fingers would probably have swayed a less confident nurse. Luckily she'd chosen wisely.

"How about you let me be the judge of that? I'll cut you a deal, buddy and let you know how things work around here. You be the patient and just lie back like a good boy; I'll be the nurse and look after you; and your secret agent friends can go outside and clean their weapons, or count their bullets or do whatever special agents do, okay? And that way we'll all get along just fine."

"I guess." From the way he gave up so easily, Kensi suspected that Marty really was feeling ill. Horrific visions of infected wounds started to whirl around in her mind. She bent over the bed and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "You take good care of him," she instructed the nurse, trying to ignore the giddy feeling in her head.

"Are you alright?" The nurse looked at her curiously, noting her complexion was the approximate colour of cream chees.

"She tends to faint when she's worried about Deeks," Sam explained kindly, taking hold of her elbow. "They're partners, you see."

"And she's in love with him." Callen materialised at her other side to help prop her upright. "But don't worry; five minutes with her head between her knees and she'll be fine."

"Whatever floats your boat." The nurse was already examining his patient and only half-listening. _This really doesn't look too good,_ he thought. _Correction: the patient looks good, he looks divine in fact. Even if I'm not supposed to think about patients like that. It's not professional. Pity he's so sick. And that he's straight. He's got a body like a Grecian god. Or Michaelangelo's David._

"I'm not in love!" Kensi protested weakly as she was lead out.

Sam grinned. "She's just stuck on him."

"Smitten," Callen added.

Deeks raised his head wearily. "Whatever." He lay back again and tried to smile at the nurse. "Do your worst."

_Don't tempt me. Really, just don't tempt me. It's only the doctors that have to take the Hippocratic oath, you know._


	17. Chapter 17

_The course of true love still isn't running smoothly and slushy plot bunny is in despair._

* * *

><p>They lingered outside the room for what seemed like an eternity. Sam was plugged into his IPod and lost in a world of his own, while Callen decided to make productive use of the enforced down-time and started answering emails via his cell. Kensi had a sneaking suspicion that not all of these were work related, but couldn't summon up the energy to call him out on it. Not that it mattered, of course. How could it possibly matter that two federal employees were engaged on private pursuits, while a third one walked nervously up and down the corridor when the fourth member of their team was possibly dying? She came to a halt in front of a wall and briefly contemplated hitting her head off it. Maybe that might knock some sense into her brain.<p>

"Why" was the question that kept whirling around incessantly in her brain. Why had she gone over to Deeks' that night? Why had she let him make a move on her? Why had she reciprocated? And why had she fallen in love with him in the first place? Things would be so much easier if she'd just listened to her heart and steered well clear of love. But then again, she wouldn't trade those few hours they had spent together for anything. She contemplated the wall once again, but then settled for just resting her cheek against its cool surface. How come she'd just found out what it was to be truly loved only for it all to be pulled away from her? Couldn't her life just go smoothly for once?

Sam pulled out his earphones and nudged his partner. "You got the plastic handcuffs?" he asked in an undertone.

"Of course." Callen patted his back pocket. "Why?"

"Maybe we could hog-tie Kensi? It's either that or I'm going to trip her up next time she walks past with that look on her face, like a hen left out in the rain."

Sam thought of Deeks, who might possibly have one of those awful wound infections and remembered all the training DVDs on emergency field medicine and their dire warnings. And then he remembered Deeks taking those self-same plastic ties and insisting that he and Kensi should take on Sam and Callen in a three-legged race around the entire ground floor of the Mission one evening when they'd all had to work late to finish up their case reports. While the all-male pairing had been soundly beaten, that was only because Deeks had wrapped his arm around Kensi's waist and lifted her free foot clear off the ground. Sam had called that cheating, but Deeks had maintained it was merely creative thinking.

Callen shook his head, although he was seriously tempted. Kensi's incessant pacing could drive a sane man mad in short order. "You know what Hetty's like when it comes to "unauthorised use of official resources."

She really hadn't been amused when she'd discovered Deeks using a letter-opener as an improvised catapult to fire elastic bands unfeasibly long distances and then challenging anyone to beat his record. And she'd been positively frosty when she'd discovered it was her letter-opener that was in use. Callen still maintained Deeks must have snuck in some non-governmental bands to get the winning entry, especially when his record was still unbroken after six months. And the back of Eric's neck had borne a red mark for over a week when he'd got in the way of another of Deeks' high-velocity bands.

Kensi resumed her pacing, and then came to a halt in front of them. "It's meningitis," she announced in doom-laden tones. "He's got a high temperature and a headache. I bet it's meningitis." _That's it – he's going to die and I'm never going to get to tell him I love him._

"Deeks hit his head hard enough to knock himself out," Callen said patiently. "Of course he's got a headache. It's not meningitis, Kensi."

"He had none of the other symptoms, like a rash or photophobia," Sam added.

"He might have." Kensi was in a mood to argue with her own shadow."That could have been why he had the covers over his head back there."

"Or it might have been because he was so embarrassed at having been shot in ass. It's not meningitis."

"Maybe it's a blood clot, caused by the wound?" Kensi just couldn't stop imagining the worst case scenarios. Each one ended with Deeks lying cold and still and with herself sprawled across his lifeless body, sobbing bitter tears. Despite herself, she lingered on that touch image for a few moments.

Sam barely managed to stop himself from physically shaking some sense into her. "Maybe you just need to calm down a bit and stop wallowing in misery? It's probably just flu, or something like that."

"Who gets flu in the middle of summer?"

"Normal people don't, but this is Deeks we're talking about here." Callen stood up a little straighter as the door opened and a doctor emerged.

Sam stretched out an arm and managed to restrain Kensi from rushing wholesale at him. "Well? Is it septicaemia?" she demanded.

"No, it's not." Callen decided he must be getting old, because this particular doctor looked like she should still be in high school, captaining the cheerleading squad. Trust Deeks to get the hottest doctor ever in the history of the world. And not only that, but looking at his butt into the bargain. Talk about landing on his feet.

"You're sure?" Kensi wasn't giving up without a fight.

"As sure as five years at medical school and being Chief Resident can make me," the doctor said smoothly. "I've checked the wound and it's healing beautifully." _And believe me, I took my time stitching it in the first place. I didn't want to marr that particular butt. He has to be the finest specimen I've ever had the pleasure to treat._

"So what's wrong with Marty then?"

"He's got an infection. And before you ask, my clues in diagnosing that were the high temperature, sore throat and swollen lymph glands."

"Oh my God." Kensi couldn't believe her ears. "He's got mono, hasn't he? And if that stupid bastard's infected me, I'm going to kill him. I might just do it anyway."


	18. Chapter 18

_An unscheduled installment, on account of the fact I managed to fall downstairs this morning... and you thought it was only Deeks I maimed. Evil plot bunny is looking most apologetic and says he didn't mean to get under my feet. Nothing broken, but my butt is bruised. Divine retribution?_

* * *

><p>"If you're so worried about mono, maybe you should be a little more discriminating about who you kiss?" the doctor said tartly. "Not that Detective Deeks has mononucleosis in any case, so it's a moot point." <em>Typical. The best ones are always taken. And from the looks of this one, she's got it bad.<em>

"So what is wrong with him?" Callen asked, as Kensi subsided into voluntary muteness.

"Strep throat. He's got rather a nasty bout, poor darling." _Whoops! Where did that come from? I hope they didn't notice._

If Sam had actually had a hairline, it his eyebrows would undoubtedly have disappeared into it. As it was, they merely went as high as they possible could. "Isn't that what children get?" he asked sceptically.

"Adults can get strep throat too," the doctor assured him. "It usually occurs when they are run down and more vulnerable to infection. Although, from what I've seen your colleague looks to be in excellent physical condition." _Who am I kidding? He's practically perfect._

"He's very fit," Kensi assured her. "Very fit indeed." _He's got the most incredible powers of endurance, and believe me, I should know._

"Has he been under a lot of stress at work recently?"

"It's a stressful job. Period." But the more Kensi thought about it, the more it made sense. This last op had hit Marty hard. And when you added the injuries and all the grief she'd been giving him, small wonder that something had given way. _But at least_ _it's not mono. There is a God._

The doctor looked at her quizzically. "As his partner, you'll have been in closest contact with him, so you should probably get tested too." _And I'll lay good money that you've been very close to him indeed. Not that I can blame you._

"Good idea. Kensi and Deeks work very closely indeed, don't they Sam?"

"Sometimes they're so close that it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. You could say they're practically inseparable."

The impact of this was not lost on the doctor. "How nice to hear of such a productive working relationship. Anyway, he's on oral antibiotics now, which should knock the infection on the head." She nodded curtly and stalked off down the corridor. _Lucky bitch. Why are all the cute ones always taken?_

"Go get yourself swabbed or poked and prodded, or whatever else they do to test for strep throat," Callen instructed.

"What about you and Sam? You've been in close contact with him too."

"Not as close as you. Not nearly as close." _I note she's not even bothering to denying it now._

"And I don't know about Callen, but I definitely haven't been playing tonsil tennis with Deeks." _They __**have**__ done it. I knew it. That's twenty bucks Callen owes me._

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Kensi wandered off in search of medical assistance.

"Very funny," Deeks said when the male agents appeared back in his room, both sporting surgical face-masks. "Where's Kensi?" He craned his neck to see if she was lurking behind them and looked absurdly disappointed to see she was nowhere in sight.

"Getting herself tested." Callen removed his mask and helped himself to a grape. "But she'll be back."

"Good. You planning on leaving any of those for me?"

Sam plucked a whole handful. "Nope. But we are planning on leave you to Kensi's tender ministrations."

"Oh." Deeks contemplated this for a few moments. That could either be very good, or very bad. With Kensi, it was hard to tell. That was the thing about Kensi that drove him mad – he could just never tell what she was going to do next. It was also the thing he loved about her. One of the things he loved about her. One of the many things. Like the way she mewled like a kitten when she came, or the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders so that the tips tickled his chest when she rode him. Or the way they just worked together, on so many levels.

"Cat got your tongue?" It was unusual to see Deeks lost for words, even if there was a far-away look in his eyes.

"I've got a sore throat." It was undeniably the truth. It just wasn't the whole truth, or anything approaching it. But it would have to do. At least until he'd worked out what was going on here. And how he felt about it. Because Marty Deeks knew there was a danger that he was in love: head-over-heels, heart-stoppingly in love. And with Kensi Blye, of all people. How the hell had that happened? And what on earth was he going to do about it? There were only so many times a man could take hearing a woman tell him that she didn't love him, and right now, he'd had his fill. He'd never been that good at handling rejection anyway. It wasn't as if she was that irresistible, after all. It was just that for some strange reason he couldn't stop thinking about her. It must be the strep throat, Marty decided. Maybe he was delirious?

"You want to feel my forehead?" he asked plaintively.

"Not particularly." Sam popped another grape into his mouth and chewed slowly. "I think we'll leave that pleasure for Kensi."

"Did I hear someone mention my name?"

"Deeks was saying how much he wanted you to run your hands all over his fevered body," Callen explained. "You want I should go get you some ice?"

"I want you to leave," Deeks growled and then caught hold of Kensi's hand. "Not you – them."

"I'm not sure what the protocol is when a female agent is left alone with a naked male agent."

"Do I look like I give a flying fig about protocol?"

_No,_ Kensi thought, _you don't. But you do look gorgeous._


	19. Chapter 19

"I've got a favour to ask you." Marty realised that he was still holding onto her hand and dropped it suddenly.

"No problem. What do you want me to do?"

"You're saying yes before you know what's involved?"

"You're my partner. I trust you."

Marty decided this was not the time to mention that he'd heard everything Kensi had said when she thought he had mono. There would be time enough for that later on. "Well, the doctor said I could go home tomorrow. But only if someone came and picked me up and then drove me home."

"I can do that," Kensi agreed. "It's no problem at all." She pushed him back onto the pillows. "You just lie back and get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

"What's the rush?" Marty had been having all these fantasies about lying back and looking soulful, which was a particular speciality of his, honed after years of practice, while Kensi alternatively fed him grapes and brushed his hair back from his forehead. And now she was ruining it all.

"I've got things to do. But I'll see you tomorrow. About 10-ish?"

"Don't forget to bring me some clothes. They cut mine off me downstairs."

_Thank the good Lord for that. I always hated that plaid shirt of yours. Don't worry, Marty – I'll find you something much nicer to wear. _"No problem," she said breezily and blew a casual kiss from the doorway before dashing out to the parking lot. She had a whole heap of stuff to get done before collecting Marty the following morning, and there wasn't a moment to spare.

* * *

><p>There are few women who, when given a key and carte blanche to go through a man's apartment, will not take full advantage of the situation. And Kensi Blye was definitely not one of those few women. Not by a long shot. As a trained investigator, it was her duty to know as much as possible about her partner, she thought. There was nothing remotely nosey about it in the slightest.<p>

She prowled around, first of all inspecting the books, CDs and DVDs, trying to get some sort of insight into her partner. It was a relief to see there were no _Twilight_ books on his shelves: one particularly promising date had ended up with her walking out the moment she'd seen them placed prominently on a bookshelf. Deeks actually seemed to be into some pretty heavy stuff, she thought looking at _100 Years of Solitude, The Magic Mountain _and_ The Master and Marguerita _all sitting side by side on the bookself. It was a decided relief to see _Zoolander_ sitting on top of the DVD player. Okay, so far so good. No cause for concern. Of course, he probably had the adult films stored carefully out of sight. Along with the dubious magazines. In fact, this was probably all a deliberate ploy, like a stage set, all carefully designed to put women at ease, projecting this image of a cultured man with good sense of humour. Who did Marty think he was kidding? And that photo of the surfer – Kensi looked at it carefully, trying to see the evidence that it had been Photo-shopped. If only she had a little more time, she could have got Eric to check it out. It was just too good to be true.

But time was at a premium, so Kensi dumped the contents of her grocery bag onto the counter and started to flick through _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_. Chicken soup – that had to be easy, right? You got your chicken, some vegetables and added some water. Simple. A child could do it. If Nicole Martindale could do it, then so could she. Marty was going to have the best damned chicken soup he'd ever eaten his life and he was bloody well going to enjoy it, whether he wanted to or not.

It was well after midnight when Kensi eventually admitted defeat. The cooking pot had surrendered unconditionally as well and was now living permanently in the garbage bin. As for the chicken, all she could hope for was that it had led a happy life, because its fate in her hands was miserable. However, it wasn't the end of the world. There was still good old Campbell's after all. Add a handful of chopped parsley and he'd never know the difference. As long as she kept the window open overnight to get rid of the smell of burning. Of course, that meant that she'd have to stay over… _The things I do for you, Marty Deeks. And the things I'd like to do to you…_

And that decision meant that Kensi had an excellent excuse (sorry, _reason_) to go through the chest of drawers in the bedroom, because obviously she had to borrow a t-shirt to sleep in. Clearly Deeks had worked in _Gap_ at some point, because everything was beautifully folded, and arranged by colour. It was almost disturbingly neat. Kensi thought of her own apartment, where the clean laundry was generally left in a heap on the bedroom floor until required. It might not be efficient or particularly neat, but it worked – after a fashion. And it wasn't as if she ever invited anyone in there anyway.

A quick rifle through the drawers of the bedside cabinet revealed nothing more incriminating than what might be reasonably expected from a sexually-active young man who took appropriate precautions. It was all rather disappointing, in a strange sort of way. Kensi wasn't quite sure what she'd been hoping to find – but this evidence of a largely blameless life certainly wasn't it. Unless he was anally-retentive, because it surely wasn't normal to be that tidy – was it?

Perversely, despite a plethora of clean shirts all ready and just waiting, Kensi picked up the white t-shirt Marty had been wearing the night she'd first come to the apartment – the night they'd spent together - and which was still draped over arm of the sofa. And when she snuggled down in the bed and breathed in deeply it was as if she was surrounded by him. The combination of his shirt and the sheets and the pillows seemed to work together to shimmer with a familiar scent, one which evoked memories of lemons, sunshine and the ocean, with just the slightest undertone of spicy ginger. "I wish you were here, Marty," she found herself whispering, and then grabbed the pillow – his pillow, taken from his side of the bed – and hugged it tightly. Deep inside her, Kensi was aware of a painful emptiness. Even if this wasn't love, it was something awfully close.

* * *

><p>Mornings always started absurdly early in hospitals, Deeks thought. It was surely the sign of some deep-seated sadism in the nursing profession that they insisted on waking all the patients up at the crack of dawn and then serving something that called itself breakfast, but was not remotely edible.<p>

"Can't I go down to the coffee shop?" he croaked.

"You shouldn't really leave the floor," Shana said hesitantly. She'd had to agree to do three night-shifts in a row to swing her transfer over here for the day. News of the cute NCIS agent had spread like wild-fire across the nursing staff and the admin. office was inundated with eager nurses willing to do extra shifts. Luckily for Shana, her aunt was the supervisor, so she'd gone straight to the head of the queue of eager applicants.

Deeks tried his second-best smile on her; the boyishly charming one, with just the merest hint of a roguish twinkle. "I'm getting my release papers today. And no-one will know."

"I suppose some light exercise wouldn't hurt."

"Exactly. And I'll even buy you a latte."

"Go on then."

Shana watched as Deeks started to peel back the bed covers and then hesitated. "You couldn't find me some pants from somewhere, could you?"

"What's it worth?" _How about your phone number?_

"My undying gratitude?" _Is she coming on to me?_

"Seeing it's you, Marty." Shana disappeared and came back a moment later carrying a pair of scrub pants and matching shirt. "That's the best I could do."

"That'll do nicely."

When Kensi arrived at the hospital, shortly before 10, she found her partner cosily ensconced at the nurses' station, surrounded by a bevy of predatory females, all fluttering their eyelashes at him. The combined scent of their perfume hit her the second she exited the elevator.

"Playing dress-up, are we?" She cast a disparaging look at the scrubs. _Oh my. That is such a good look. I wonder if he ever played doctors and nurses when he was a kid?_ Kensi had only tried that game once, and her Dad had managed to interrupt it at the crucial moment. So while Jimmy Krantz had seen everything she had to offer, it was over ten years before Kensi was to see the real thing, in living colour. She often wondered what Jimmy was up to these days. "You won't be wanting these then?" She waived the sports bag containing a carefully selected outfit, one that had taken another good rummage around his bedroom closet to put together. And that search had failed to reveal any incriminating evidence either. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"Will too. This gear doesn't come with shoes and my feet are freezing." He grabbed the bag and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for.

"Put on the sweater too," Kensi instructed. "You don't want to catch cold."

"Yes, Mom." He turned to the nurses. "See what good hands I'm going to be in?" And then did exactly as he was told and put on the sweater.

Kensi could almost feel the waves of hate directed at her and smiled especially sweetly as she linked her arm through his. "Come on, Marty. Say good bye to all the pretty nurses. And then you're going home and straight to bed."

"Is that a promise?" _I just can't read you, Kensi. First you blow hot, then you blow cold, so I don't know where I stand at all. Can't you see I'm putty in your hands?_

"What do you think?"

"I think I'd better say goodbye to the pretty nurses."


	20. Chapter 20

One of the things that Marty Deeks had learned quickly about working with NCIS was that discretion was often the better part of valour. Although it would have come as a surprise to his colleagues to discover that he often bit back the smart comments that rose irrepressibly into his mind. It was only the most extreme examples, the ones that simply wouldn't be suppressed that were actually voiced. And when Kensi jolted the car over yet another pot-hole and a bolt of fire surged through his butt, he could contain himself no longer.

"You want to see if you can make this journey any more uncomfortable? Maybe there's a nice chicane you could find between here and my place?"

Kensi tried very hard not to feel guilty; after all, she was the one who'd been up all night cooking (even if that had been somewhat less than successful) and was putting herself out big time to give him a ride home, but one look at his face: white and with lips set in a straight line of pain and all her good intentions flew out of the window.

"I'm sorry. Really." She slowed down to a crawl.

"Thanks." Marty expended all his energies on staying perched on his undamaged buttock for the rest of the journey, which passed off without further ado. _At this rate, one butt cheek is going to atrophy away to nothing and the other's going to become twice its normal size. Great. Could life get any better? _His butt ached, his throat felt as if it was made of sandpaper and in addition he had a killer headache thumping away behind his eyes. The thought of bed, with its smooth, cool sheets had never been more appealing and it struck him that maybe he'd been a little hasty in demanding to be discharged from the hospital. But he wasn't going to let Kensi see that he felt ill. Therein lay madness. He wasn't so sick that he couldn't see that. Their whole relationship was built on mutual sparring, each giving as good as he or she got. _The moment Kensi senses a chink in my defences is the day I might as well roll over and admit defeat. Only the other night, she was so soft and gentle, it was almost like I was with a different person. Kensi without her spikes and prickles._

The moment Kensi pulled up in front of his apartment building, Marty was fumbling with the door handle and getting out of the car as fast as he possibly could.

"Hold on. I've still got to get your things out of the trunk."

"No need. I'll get them later." He started to hobble slowly across the road.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Kensi pulled him back, just as a car sped past with inches to spare. "Remember what happened just a few of days ago when you played chicken with a car?"

"How could I forget? I've still got the bullet wound to remind me."

"Just for that, I'm tempted to leave you to manage by yourself." Kensi grabbed the keys out of his hand and let herself into the foyer.

"I'm fine. Honestly." _Please leave me alone. I just want to crawl into bed and die quietly._

"Who do think you're kidding? You look like death warmed up – only slightly less healthy, even. Honestly, you look as if you've just crawled out of your grave." _Do you really think I'd leave you? What kind of heartless bitch do you think I am? And what did I do to make you think that?_

Marty slumped against the wall. "It's really kind of you, Kensi, but there's no need. I'm a big boy and I can look after myself."

_I know exactly what a big boy you are, sweetheart. You showed me. Four times. _"You're my partner. It's my job to look after you. Got it?" Kensi was resolute in her stance.

"Got it," he agreed weakly. _Okay, now I hate myself. She's trying to be nice. And she's only doing this out of a sense of duty. Nothing more. She's made that perfectly clear._

Their progress up the stairs was painfully slow. It was also painful and slow. Marty was reduced to taking each step individually, raising the foot on his good side up first and then dragging the injured one up, but even so each movement made the stitches in his butt feel like they were tearing apart.

"Next time I move, I'm either getting an apartment on the ground floor, or finding a block with an elevator," he panted.

Kensi looked at him and saw that although he was still unnaturally pale, his face was beaded in sweat. "We're nearly there now." She put her hand underneath his forearm and took as much of the strain as possible. "I really am sorry, you know?"

"For what? Adding insult to injury with those pot-holes?"

"For shooting you in the first place. And for saying you were an idiot who thought with his dick. And… and for everything." _But especially for refusing to tell you that I loved you._

"Forget it." _What you really mean is that you're sorry we spent the night together. That's it, isn't it Kensi? Why can't you just say what's on your mind? Just for once, let me into whatever's going on in your head._

By the time they finally got into his apartment, Marty found that his knees were shaking and he could feel cold beads of sweat running down his back.

"You're going straight to bed," Kensi said firmly, trying to keep a note of fear out of her voice as she surveyed his greyish pallor. She moved her arm to wrap it around his waist and felt the shivers that were convulsing his entire body.

"That's the best offer I've had all week." The shaky grin on his face was a brave attempt, but it didn't fool her for an instant.

"Shut up and get into the bedroom before you fall flat on your face."

"That's what I've been doing ever since we met, isn't it? Falling flat on my face, right at your feet. It's become a habit." Kensi's arm dropped away and he shuffled forward a couple of steps, before grabbing onto the wall for support. _Wow. This is like being in the hall of mirrors at the funfair. It's like the floor is moving around and I can't keep my balance._

"Is that what you really think, Marty?" Kensi's voice sounded thin and weak. _He hates me. And I don't blame him._

_She sounds like a little girl. If only the walls would stop moving backwards and forwards for a minute, I might be able to think clearly._ "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." Marty turned his head around to look at her, but the sudden movement was his downfall as his head gave an uncomfortable lurch and his knees buckled underneath him.

Kensi watched in horror as he slid down the wall, ending up crouching on all-fours. "Marty! Are you all right?" In an instant, she was kneeling beside him, one hand on his back.

"Just give me a second, then we'll try for the bedroom again, okay?" He took a couple of gulps of air and pushed his shoulders back.

"This probably isn't the best time to mention it, but there's something you should know."

"Justin Beiber's balls finally dropped?"

She ignored the inanity, having had lots of practice over the months they'd worked together. "I think your wound's bleeding." _Actually, I know it is._

* * *

><p><em>To all those who plead for just another chapter to posted each day: I'm writing as fast as I can!<em>


	21. Chapter 21

_I take no responsibility for what is about to happen. Blame randy plot bunny, not me. Or blame it on the strain of putting up 2 installments of this and 2 installments of Slipping Through My Fingers in one day. See, I listen to everyone who keeps asking for more._

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><p>No matter how hard he craned his neck around, it was useless – Marty simply couldn't see his butt. "You're not joking? Having me on?"<p>

"No, I'm not joking. I wouldn't joke about something like that." Kensi reached out both her hands. "Come on, let me help you up and we'll get you into the bedroom and see… " She had been going to say _"how bad it is",_ but thought better of it. "And we'll see," she said, rather lamely.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Staggering up, Marty was only too aware of the pounding his body had taken in the accident, as it seemed like every muscle in his body was protesting at the movement. He grabbed onto Kensi's hand and let her guide him into the bedroom.

"No, you don't." She knelt down on the floor and helped him take off his shoes. "How about you lie down and I'll go and get the bag with all the dressing the hospital gave you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Or I could call Callen and Sam and get them to come over?" _One of them could sit on you, while the other surveyed the damage and stitched you back together again._

"I guess I'll stick with you." _Add to the ritual humiliation – I don't think so. Why not just invite Hetty too and make a party out of it?_

"You want to, err… get ready?" Kensi didn't wait for an answer, but beat a hasty retreat. _This is so weird. Not that long ago, we couldn't keep our hands – or our lips – off each other and now we're both getting embarrassed about me seeing his butt._

Struggling out of the sweater and scrub-shirt, Marty flopped down face-first on the bed and fumbled with the drawstring tie of the pants.

_At least she had the subtlety to shut the door behind her. I must have been really, really bad in a former life, because all my sins are coming back to haunt me. Here I am, alone with a hot girl and she's going to be looking at my bleeding butt. My bruised, stitched together butt. Talk about an instant passion killer. She's never going to look at me in the same way again, not after this. That's it. It's over. I can't work with Kensi after this. I'm demanding an immediate transfer back to LAPD. Or maybe up to Alaska? No, wait a minute, Sarah Palin's up there. I'd be arrested ten minutes after I landed, even if shooting her is actually a benefit to humanity._

"Okay. Come on in and do your worst." Marty buried his face in his folded arms. _Yup, I'm hiding. Very mature. But who could blame me?_

Kensi looked at the smooth expanse of his tanned back, and felt another twinge of guilt as she surveyed the bruises that marred what should have been perfection. _All this is because of me and my stupid pride. Marty pushed me out of the way, took the hit from the car instead of me and what did I do? I shot him in the butt._ _Way to go, Kensi. Nothing says "I love you" like shooting a guy in the ass._

"Okay. Can you just lift up your hips?" Her fingers felt cold as she eased the pants down. "I'm just going to take off the dressing. It might pull a bit." Kensi took Marty's muffled grunt as being one of approval. "It doesn't look too bad," she said consolingly_. It's actually a lot smaller than I thought it would be. The wound, I mean. His butt's just the perfect size._

"Really? You're not just having me on?"

"Really. The stitches are all still holding. There's just been a bit of bleeding, but it's stopped now. I can get a mirror so you can see, if you want?"

"No thanks. I don't like stitches. Period. I especially don't like stitches in me. And I really don't want to see them." _You want to see a grown man pass out while he's lying down? Then just make me look at those stitches._ Marty reached down to pull the scrubs back up.

"Not so fast. Let me just clean it up and put a fresh dressing on." _I wish you'd let me kiss it better. I wish you'd let me kiss you all over. Do you have any idea about how turned on I am right now, with you lying there, all helpless and hurting and just being so flipping vulnerable? And if you just gave me the slightest bit of encouragement, I don't know what I wouldn't do. But I do know where I'd like to start._

"You don't have to." _Just let me die now, please God. She's never going to be able to look at me again without laughing._ _Maybe I should move to Hawaii? There's good surf there, after all._

"Just let me help you. For once in your life, would you just let me do something for you?" Kensi sat down beside him placed her hand tenderly on the undamaged side of his butt and slapped it gently. "Okay, Marty? You lie still and be a good boy now." She slapped him again, not quite so gently this time and smiled as he jerked upwards.

"That hurt." Marty looked at her with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

Sure enough, when she looked, there was a handprint, the mark standing out red against the white skin of his butt. "Don't mess with me, then." Kensi softened the remark with a smile. "Just lie still and do what you're told."

Marty dropped his head back down again. "You're worse than the nurses." _This feels like it could be going somewhere. But it can't be – can it?_

From the sound of his voice he was smirking, Kensi thought. "You'd better believe it." She delved into the bag and found an antiseptic wipe. "This might be cold."

"Yowch! It's more than cold – it's freezing. And you could have told me it would sting."

"How was I supposed to know that?" she asked reasonably. "And lie still or I'll smack you again."

"Promises, promises." _What on earth is going on here? Maybe I hit my head when I fell and this is all some hallucination? Because in the name of all that's holy, there is no way that I'm actually lying here, letting Kensi clean up one side of my butt and slap the other – and enjoying it? This is so wrong, on so many levels. This can't be happening – can it?_

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><p><em>Like I said - I REALLY don't know what happened there, or where the slapping came from. Most peculiar. But Deeks seems to like it...<em>


	22. Chapter 22

"Okay – you're going to lie still and let me finish up here, aren't you, Marty?" _Did I read that right? Does he want to me smack him again?_

"Yeah, yeah. If it'll stop you nagging me. It's not like I've got much of a choice, is it? And you're not my Mom, you know." _Thank the good Lord for that. Because then this would just be plain perverted, instead of mildly kinky. And Mom only smacked my butt once, with a shoe. A stiletto. I had that mark for weeks._

"Nope, I'm just your partner. Which is almost as bad. If I'd been your mother, I'd have swung for you years before." Kensi unwrapped a dressing and applied it. "All finished now." She could see he had the undamaged buttock firmly clenched, as if he was expecting another slap._ Just for that, I'm not going to do it. Think you've got the measure of me, do you Marty? Well, think again, buddy boy._

"Good. Thanks, Kensi. I do appreciate it. Really." He managed to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but only barely. _You want to let me in on whatever's going on in your head, Kensi? Please? Because I've no idea what's happening. You're just killing me here._

"No problem. You want to let me take those pants off properly now?" _Did I really say that? Talk about unsubtle. That was definitely my subconscious talking._

"What?" Marty reared up and stared at her, eyes wide with what almost looked like fright.

"They're covered in blood," Kensi said calmly, in a tone of voice that questioned why she had to state the bloody obvious. "So let me take them off and then you can get into bed."

"I know. But still… Let me just get under the covers, why don't you?" _Under different circumstances, I'd be standing to attention at an offer like that._

"Why? I've seen it all before. It's not like you to be coy." _Actually, I've more than seen it. But we won't go into that. As much as I'd like to. And I'd really like to see it again, to be perfectly honest. And exactly why I am using euphemisms?_

"That not the point. And you know it." _Let me keep a shred of dignity, won't you? You've pretty much taken everything else away from me. You're never going to want to take up where we left off, are you? Everything's ruined now. Maybe I should just leave the country – take up somewhere else, under an assumed name. Somewhere where nobody knows me as the guy whose butt ruined his life._

"You're embarrassed, aren't you?" Kensi couldn't stop a grin creeping across her face. _You look so cute when you're blushing. Even your butt's gone pink. It's adorable. You're adorable. I want to kiss you all over, starting with that little pink butt._

"Too right I am." He grabbed hold of the pants and hauled them back up, holding on for grim death.

"Baby. Big baby." _I'm so tempted to smack you again._

"Sadist." _Go on, slap me again. I dare you._

"If it makes you happy, I could go out of the room," she compromised.

Marty looked more relieved than words could possibly express. "That would work for me. And you could maybe get me some juice? My throat's killing me."

"You shouldn't talk so much then, should you? How about I heat you up some chicken soup?" Kensi asked hopefully. _If you liked Nicole's soup, then you're going to love mine. Straight out of the tin. Satisfaction guaranteed – or I'll jolly well be demanding a refund._

"Naw, I'm not really hungry. Just some juice. And maybe a couple of those pain pills?"

All thoughts of joking fled. "You're feeling pretty rotten, aren't you?" It was hard to keep the guilt at bay, especially when he nodded, trying not to look shamefaced, like he was a failure. _Oh the poor darling. I've been kind of mean._

"Kind of. I guess I could sleep for a bit." _And it the weirdest thing, but I swear the sheets smell like you, Kensi. It's like you're all around me. I must be sicker than I thought._

"I'll go and get that juice then. And you get under the covers, if you know what's good for you."

"Yes, Mommy."

Kensi wandered over the dresser, unerringly opened the second drawer and pulled out a pair of boxer shorts. "And put these on – just in case you need to use the bathroom. I know how modest you are and I don't want to offend your delicate sensibilities." She draped them over his butt.

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

"Would I do that?"

"Oh yes."

Kensi stood in the doorway for a second. "You really don't know me at all, do you Marty?"

"I'd like to – if only you'd let me, Kensi." But the door was already shut and there was no-one to hear.

Kensi ignored the mound of oranges lying next to the juicer and went straight for the carton she'd bought last night and stored in the refrigerator. By the time she'd got back in the bedroom, the boxers were nowhere to be seen and Marty was lying safely underneath the covers.

"You've got huge dark circles under your eyes," she said conversationally, slipping her arm under his shoulders. "Drink your juice, take your pills and then go to sleep."

"Do you know how much I love it when you boss me around?"

"I can take an educated guess." Kensi retrieved the glass and put it safely on the bedside cabinet. "Probably about as much as I love seeing you lying there in that bed, looking like a good little boy and thinking evil thoughts." She bent over and kissed him. "So how about you go to sleep and have sweet dreams?"

"How about you join me?" He patted the empty side of the bed invitingly.

"Don't tempt me." She went straight out of the room, without a backwards glance, because her reserve wasn't that strong.

_Did I hear that right? Did she really say she loved me? Or loved seeing me, at any rate. It's almost the same thing. Only it's not really. It's just as good as I'm going to get. I just can't think straight. Either I'm in love, or these pain pills are really good. Or it could be both, I suppose. I'm fucked either way. Story of my life._

His throat hurt and his butt ached and he wanted Kensi so badly it was like this ache deep inside. And the bed was too damned big without her.

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><p><em>Now - before you ask, this will be the only update tonight, as I'm going to the Edinburgh Tattoo shortly. And tomorrow I'm off on holdiay. But panic not - I'll have internet access, so the stories will continue!<em>


	23. Chapter 23

_well, here I am, sitting in an idyllic cottage in the Lake District, where the loudest sound outside is the birds singing. Talk about being far from the madding crowd. And before I get set for a day's exploring, here's a small offering in the shape of the latest moves in the dance between our favourite couple._

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><p>Kensi looked at the unopened can of chicken soup sitting on the counter and considered it briefly. No, it still wasn't tempting her, mainly because it had too many associations with being a kid, and being sick with various uncomfortable and socially embarrassing illnesses, such as chicken pox, measles and mumps. If there was a disfiguring disease going around school, then Kensi had been guaranteed to catch it. She mooched over to the refrigerator and pulled open the doors, aware that she should probably eat something. There was a disconcerting amount of fresh vegetables and fruit, which was funny, because she'd never really thought of Marty being a healthy eater; he seemed more the sort of guy who thought there were four main food groups – coffee, beer, pizza and burgers. Of course, there was actually plenty of beer in there too, which was almost a relief. The freezer was infinitely more promising, containing amongst other things at least three different varieties of ice-cream. Now that was something she could work with. A plan began to formulate in Kensi's mind.<p>

Almost on tip-toe, she slunk back along to the bedroom and peeked her head carefully around the door: the sound of soft, regular breathing told her that Marty was sound asleep. Good - that meant she had at least an hour, which was more than enough time for what she had planned. Grabbing some cash and the car keys, Kensi locked the front door carefully and skipped down the stairs with something approaching glee. This wouldn't take long and it would finally show Marty once and for all exactly what she thought about him.

For obvious reasons, she was somewhat wary about using the local convenience store, which had these unfortunate connotations with Marty getting shot – and what was it with the guy anyway – was he some sort of magnet for any bullets that happened to be fired anywhere in his vicinity? – but she pushed her scruples aside and even picked up a coffee while she was there. Mission accomplished, she walked slowly back to the car, sipping the drink and trying to make some sense of what was going on between them. Alright – she had a thing for him. He just happened to be her physical type – but then there were thousands of guys walking about LA with that insolent lope, with their carefully tousled mops of shaggy blond hair and insouciant blue eyes, looking like they owned the world. Marty Deeks wasn't all that great looking, after all. And even if he was, then she only had a purely physical attraction to him. Which meant a) it was something completely outwith her control, being a matter of pure hormones, and b) it would pass. It might take a while, but it definitely pass.

The more she thought about it, she more Kensi realised that what she felt for Marty was just like the teenage crushes she used to have on the cool boys at school, the ones who didn't know she even existed. The ones that did come onto the teenaged Kensi usually tended to be smaller than her and somewhat nerdy into the bargain, and she'd been able to resist their advances only too easily. All in all, her teenage years had not exactly been successful on the dating front. Which had left her ripe and ready for the plucking when Jack, the older man, the macho marine had come along. And look what an unmitigated farce that had been. No, what Kensi was looking for was a soul-mate, someone who could read her mind, could second-guess her; someone, who would always be there, come what may. Above all, someone who would never leave her. Kensi knew was searching for that "once and for always" man, and while Marty might be a pretty decent partner, he wasn't that once in a lifetime person. Of course he wasn't. No way. It was ridiculous to even think that he might be. He might be many things, but he wasn't that person. It was just that he was so hard to resist, that was all, like the one last chocolate left sitting in the box, mutely inviting you to indulge. But she was strong, Kensi reasoned, she could get over this. As long as she made a determined effort.

Letting herself back into the apartment, Kensi had the sense that something was not quite right. She entered slowly, senses on high alert and one hand already reaching behind her back towards her gun.

"Hold it right there."

"Jesus, Marty! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He was at the far end of the hall, levelling his Beretta at her head. Standing there, wearing only his boxer shorts and looking so completely hot that Kensi was tempted to break the world record for a short sprint from a standing start. _Okay – how does he manage to get his hair looking so good? When I get out of bed, mine looks like a complete rat's nest. And that's only on a good day. _

"I woke up and you were gone," he said accusingly. "And then I hear someone coming in. What was I supposed to think – that Little Red Riding Hood was coming visiting?"

"Put the gun down and get back into bed before you fall over." Kensi shut the door behind her and dumped the grocery sack down on the floor.

Marty gave her a confused look and then let his gun arm fall down to his side. "Are you seducing me, Ms Blye?"

"Now I know you're getting better. Even if you do look shitty. Get back into bed, Deeks."

"I thought I was Marty?" He put out one hand to steady himself, because the room was spinning again.

"At the moment, you're just plain annoying. Are you going to get into bed or do I have to make you?"

"You say the nicest things, Kensi. I can never resist a woman who knows what she wants."

Kensi watched him shuffle back into the bedroom, clearly favouring his injured side. "I've got a surprise for you. If you're good," she called out.

"How about if I'm bad? You going to smack me again?" He sounded almost hopeful. _Go on. You loved it, you know you did. So did I, if I'm completely honest. There was something about just letting her take control and submitting to it that made me feel so horny, even if my butt felt like it was on fire. Both sides of it._

"If I thought it would do any good, I would. I've been wanting to smack some sense into you since the first day we met."

"Help yourself. Anytime."

"Don't tempt me_." Seriously, just don't tempt me. I never say myself as a dominatrix before, but you've managed to change all that. I don't know what I feel about anything anymore. Damn you – why did you have to crawl under my skin like that? I wasn't looking for love. And I'm certainly not looking for love with you. I think we both know what a disaster that would be._ Kensi picked up the groceries and went into the kitchen.

Marty was sitting up in bed when she came back into the bedroom, propped up against a pile of pillows, with a disconcertingly innocent expression on his face. "See? I'm good." He looked at the tray she was carrying, with a clean tea towel draped over the top and his face fell. "That looks ominous." _It looks like a tray of torture instruments. Any minute you're going to have me pinned to the mattress and you're going to start poking around demanding 'Is it safe?', aren't you? So help me, you really are one scary lady. And I left my gun lying on the top of the dresser. Great. Nothing for it but to lie back and submit, I guess._

"I told you I had a surprise for you. Close your eyes." Kensi watched with amusement as he struggled with a whole heap of conflicting emotions. "Don't you trust me?" Ah, that was always the killer question, when asked by one partner to another.

"Yeah, I trust you." _God help me. St Michael and all the angels, help me. Don't let me cry out like some girl, because that would really be the end of it. Kensi already thinks I'm an idiot, I don't want her thinking I'm a wimp as well._

"Then close your eyes." _Haven't you ever heard of delayed gratification?_

It was very tempting to peek, but something told Marty that Kensi would stand no nonsense. He sat like a statue in the bed, listening to the sounds her feet made as she walked slowly across the floor and felt all the muscles in his body tense up in expectation.

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><p><em>Poor darling Marty! What does she have in store for him - and will it hurt?<em>

_As ever, reviews are most welcome_


	24. Chapter 24

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" Marty asked suspiciously.

"That depends." Kensi wasn't about to say anything more.

"Depends on what?" _I'm getting seriously worried here._

"On you, you numbskull." _Just shut up and do as you're told, for once in your life._ The bed dipped as she sat down beside him. "Now, clasp your hands behind your head."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." _No reason at all, actually, except it makes your muscles look so cool it's untrue. And it I really like being in control. It's like I've found my vocation. Having you do exactly what I tell you to gives me this amazing feeling of power. Oh flip. Now I'm sitting here looking at your underarm hair and I'm finding it attractive. That is so not normal. I need help. What is it with you? How come you can make me feel like this when I'm supposed to be the one who's in control?_

"Ok-ay." The word was long and drawn out, but he obeyed without further demur. _You're so bossy, Kensi. I reckon you could give Hetty a run for her money. You're really getting off on this power trip, aren't you? And funnily enough, so am I._

Kensi pulled back the covering from the tray and picked up a spoon. "Open wide."

"Why?"

"What is this – twenty questions? Open wide and you'll see why." _Were you like this as a kid, Marty? Always questioning, never just accepting? I pity your mother, I really do. Only I bet you had her wrapped around your little finger. A bit like me then. _"And keep your eyes shut."

_This could be the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. Even dumber than getting myself shot in the ass while I saved hers. But what the heck? Here goes nothing._ Obediently, Marty sat there, arms clasped behind his head, eyes tight shut and mouth wide open. Something cold and sweet filled his mouth and after the initial shock a smile crept across his face. "Ice cream?" _You made me go through all this for ice cream? Kensi, you are inspired. Inspired, but wicked. Just wait until I'm feeling better. Just you wait. _

"Not just ice cream. And keep your eyes shut for just a bit longer." She popped the spoon back into his mouth.

This time, his eyes flew wide open almost instantly. "Jello? Aw no. I hate Jello."

"How can you hate Jello? That's practically un-American."

"What are you going to do? Report me to the pudding police?" With an effort, Marty swallowed the offending mouthful, grimacing dramatically. "Jello is like congealed slime. Or snot. Or maybe both. It's not natural, that's for sure."

"Little kids love Jello."

"I'm not a little kid – or hadn't you noticed?"

_Oh, I've noticed. Believe me, I've noticed._ "You're behaving like one right now. And if you hate Jello so much, how come you were always whinging when you were shot that time you got shot in the chest and I ate this one tiny cup of the stuff?"

"it was the principle of the matter. Tell you what, you go get another spoon and I'll have the ice cream and you can have the Jello?"

"Or we could take it in turns?" Kensi scooped up a large helping of Jello and savoured it. _So simple, and yet so good. A bit like Marty, actually. Only he isn't simple, not simple at all. He's possibly the most complex man she'd ever known. But how can you not like Jello?_

"Sounds good to me." He unclasped his hands and relaxed back against the pillows. "You going to feed it to me?" _Because this could be a major turn on. No, wait a minute – it already is._

"Why not?" Kensi watched as he happily opened his mouth as she proffered the spoon. "Is that helping your throat?"

"A bit." _Why would I care about a sore throat when I've got you sitting on my bed, feeding me ice cream? This is the stuff dreams are made of. Oh Kensi, can't you see what you're doing to me?_

And then disaster struck. As Kensi moved the laden spoon towards his mouth, a large dollop fell off and landed on Marty's bare chest, before sliding slowly downwards, leaving a trail in its wake.

"Oh dear. Look what you've done." There was a decided smirk on his face. In fact, it was the biggest, most knowing smirk that Kensi had ever seen. And she was so tempted to wipe it off that smart mouth of his. "So, the question is: what are you going to do about it?"

She put the bowl down and leaned over him, one hand on either side of his hips. "I think the actual question is: can you handle it? Well, can you Marty?"

"Why don't you find out?"

_You're taunting me now, aren't you, Marty? Well, hand onto those boxers kid, because this is going to blow your mind. Believe me – you ain't seen nothing yet._

Their eyes locked and the building anticipation was almost more than either of them could bear.

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><p><em>However, dear readers - you are going to have to wait a little to find out what happens next! all these shennanigans between that apir remind me of the old slogan for Fry's Five Boys chocolate: Desperation; Pacification; Expectation; Acclamation; Realisation. <em>


	25. Chapter 25

"You'd better hurry up, because it's melting. Or am I just too hot for you to handle?" _Come on, Kensi. Just do something will you? Do anything – but just do __something__!_

"Yeah, that must be it. I knew there had to be a reason." The tip of Kensi's tongue poked out from between her lips, and then disappeared again. "You're almost good enough to eat, do you know that?"

Marty just lay there, looking at her, his eyes never leaving her face for an instant. "Try me," he said. "Just go ahead and indulge yourself." _For the love of God, go ahead. Now. Right now. Do whatever you want. Please. _

_He thinks he's calling my bluff._ Kensi smiled beatifically. "Thank you." _Thank you, God. I'm sorry it's been so long since you heard from me. And for taking Your Name in vain too often. Because now I can see just how much You love me._ She dipped her head and lapped delicately at the thin stream of melted ice cream that trickled down his chest, stopping just level with his nipples. "My, you _are_ hot, Marty. Maybe you want me to give you a sponge bath?" _Such is the stuff fantasies are made of. My fantasies anyway. _

"This is working for me," he forced out from between clenched teeth. "Just keep going." _Don't stop now._

The pale vanilla ice cream contrasted beautifully with his tanned skin, which was almost the colour of butterscotch sauce, Kensi thought. And thank heavens he was smooth chested. The idea of kissing a furry chest always reminded her of Mittens, the cat she'd owned as a child and who was terribly prone to coughing up fur balls. "Oh well, seeing you ask so nicely." This time she licked all the way down to his belly button, using a combination of long and short strokes, lapping and sucking and dotting tiny kisses for good measure. "Enough?" she asked enquiringly, and moved one hand to rest gently on his thigh. By pure coincidence, this movement just happened to push back the bedding at the same time. From what she could see, this was definitely not enough for Marty. Not by a long way.

"No. Never enough." Marty found that his head was spinning and it was hard to concentrate. _Where the hell had Kensi learned these moves from? The other night, she'd been almost innocent, but now – now she was the hottest mover he'd ever encountered._ "I can't get enough of you, Kensi." He looked at her and his eyes were wild.

Another self-satisfied smile crept across Kensi's face. "Oh good." And she was practically purring as she spoke. "I was hoping you'd say that. Because I feel the same way" She raised her head and kissed him and all Marty could think of was that she was cold and warm at the same time and that she tasted so sweet that his whole body ached for her. Who needed love when they had this?

"There's still a bit left," he managed to say after they finally stopped kissing, gesturing feebly towards his stomach. Every bone in his body seemed to have melted – except for one.

"I like to save the best for last." Kensi delicately dipped the tip of her little finger into the pool than had accumulated in his belly button and then lapped the remainder like a kitten. "All gone," she announced brightly

Marty could feel her breath, hot and hesitant as she laid her head on his stomach and let the fingers of one hand play idly with the waistband of his shorts, while the other hand gently stroked his inner thigh. It was only by exercising the greatest possible self- control that he wasn't leaping on her like some caveman. He'd never met a woman who could turn him on quite so much, and yet who left him wondering what the hell was actually going on. "Kensi? Do you want to tell me again how much you don't love me?"

"Is that what you really want me to do?" _Because I had something much more exciting and mutually enjoyable in mind._

"Not exactly." _Not at all. And you know it. You know exactly what I want you to do._ "The thing is… "

"What?" _Don't tell me you don't want me to do it? Guys love it when a girl goes down on them – don't they?_ Kensi softened the sharp tone of her voice by blowing gently on his stomach, and then nuzzling her face in that tantalising line of golden hair that led southwards, like an arrow pointing to nirvana.

"Nothing. Don't stop." Everything else disappeared and Marty laid his head back on the pillows. Kensi's heart seemed to do an extra couple of beats when she looked at the way his pupils were dilated, his face was flushed and his hair mussed up to absolute perfection.

"Why on earth would I stop?" she asked reasonably. "Especially when I've only just begun." _This is like having all my Christmas's come at once. There's just you, me and this enormous bed and I've got so many ideas. And all you have to do is lie back and let m have my way with you._ Kensi moved back up the bed and kissed him again. "And, just for the record, I really don't love you at all."

"I don't love you either. Never have. Not for a single instant. You're so not my type." Marty ran his hands through her hair and then pulled her down towards him. "Aren't you getting terribly hot?" He toyed with the buttons on her shirt.

"Now you come to mention it, I am rather warm." Kensi reached behind her head and coiled her hair up artfully and Marty watched, as transfixed as any of Pavlov's dogs as her breasts rose with the action.

"Do you know what would help? A nice shower." Of course, you'd have to take your clothes off. All of your clothes. And then we could really get down to business.

"I seem to remember you've got a nice shower, Marty." She peeled off the shirt, revealing a black bra with lime green daisies dancing across the material and his eyes popped out appreciatively. "Want to show me how it works?"

_Don't eat the daisies…_ _I wonder if she's wearing matching panties?_


	26. Chapter 26

It was a very nice shower, perhaps even nicer than she remembered, Kensi thought. And she'd certainly never thought of using the massage settings for the purposes that Marty utilised it for. But then, as she had every reason to know, he could be particularly inventive when he put his mind to it. Her back was pressed against the walls and her arms were clinging tightly around Marty's neck, and the thundering of the water almost drowned out her cries of ecstasy. Almost, but not quite. He reached down and lifted her up and Kensi wrapped her legs around his waist. Their faces were level and just before she reached in for a deep kiss, Kensi could see that Marty's eyes were sparkling, with a mixture of mischief and delight.

_How come we work together so well? It's like we were made for each other – we just fit. Oh yes, we fit. We fit perfectly._

The water poured down around them and the bathroom was beginning to fill up with steam.

"Did I ever tell you how hot you are?" Kensi's hands were now tugging at his hair_. No wonder he's so fit if this is the sort of thing he gets up to. Who needs to bench-press weights when they could do this instead? It's like the ideal workout._

"Yes – but that was because I was sick."

"You are insanely hot. And you're driving me insane too." He kept altering pace and rhythm, bringing her almost to the point where the world was about to tip over the edge, and then holding back for a second, so that her orgasm remained just tantalisingly out of reach.

"Good. It's about time someone taught you a lesson." He removed one hand from supporting her ass and gave it a sharp slap and laughed at the shocked expression on Kensi's face. "I've been dying to do that." He slapped the other side for good measure and Kensi groaned convulsively and her head collapsed against his shoulder. _Interesting. Very interesting indeed. I'll have to remember that for the next time. When she's lying across my lap. And I'll definitely get her to wear those panties with the daisies on them._

* * *

><p>"I don't think I'll be able to move for a week." Marty lay sprawled luxuriously on the bed, watching as Kensi searched for her clothes. "You've done me in completely, Wonder Woman. How can a mere mortal keep up with you?"<p>

"You seemed to manage just fine." She found her panties and pulled them on.

"I like those panties, by the way. They work better for me without the bra. It's a good look for you." _That should be your super hero costume – just those panties and nothing else, like you are right now. Although maybe a pair of thigh high boots would be kind of cool too. And maybe a whip?_

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Kensi stopped getting dressed and stood there, just in a pair of panties and her hair hanging damp and tangled down her back and looked at him lying there: lying prone, with his chin propped on his hands and wondered what she'd done to deserve this – to deserve him. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been this happy.

_I must have done something amazing_  
><em>in my last life,<em>  
><em>something wonderful,<em>  
><em>something I do not remember<em>  
><em>—because they sent me you<em>  
><em>in this life—<em>

_you with your tigery eyes_  
><em>&amp; your strawberry mouth<em>  
><em>with your funny beard,<em>  
><em>&amp; your cosmic cuddles<em>  
><em>&amp; your fuzzy stomach<em>  
><em>&amp; your solar plexus<em>  
><em>glowing like a sun<em>  
><em>against mine.<em>

_I must have done something astounding—_  
><em>won a holy war<em>  
><em>built a great cathedral,<em>  
><em>carved a marble statue of the pope<em>  
><em>which was a perfect likeness<em>  
><em>(flattering yet true)<em>  
><em>because they sent me you.<em>

_I must have saved a species from extinction,_  
><em>invented penicillin, radar, soap,<em>  
><em>or maybe even marbles,<em>  
><em>chocolate mousse, celery tonic,<em>  
><em>washable latex paint...<em>  
><em>I must have been a saint.<em>

Life right now was pretty wonderful, even if it was also pretty complicated.

"No, you didn't ask for my opinion, but you're getting it free of charge. I'm a generous kind of guy." _You'd never had a multiple orgasm before now, had you?_

"Yes, you are." Still wearing just the panties, she sat down beside him. "You're seriously generous, Marty. You saved my life and I never even thanked you."

"You're here, now. That says it all. You don't need to thank me." _I'd do it again, in an instant. Do it gladly. Don't you know that I'd do anything for you, Kensi?_

"What do I need to do – to make it right between us, I mean?" _Just tell me, and I'll do it. I'd do anything for you, Marty. You do know that, don't you?_

Just then there was a loud hammering on the door and an all-too familiar voice demanding to be let in.

"Hell-fire and damnation!" Kensi dragged on her jeans and shirt, fumbling with the buttons. "Get back into bed properly. And stop looking like that."

"Looking like what?"

"Like you've just had mind-blowing sex. No, don't do that! It's like you're pretending to be so innocent, and it doesn't work. You look like a cat sitting in a room with an empty cage and a bunch of feathers in its mouth. The whole insincere _'No ma'am, I ain't seen your canary'_ act." She hastily kicked her bra underneath the bed.

"I am innocent. You corrupted me." Marty arranged himself decorously against the pillows and clasped his hands meekly. "Do I look suitably angelic?"

"As angelic as Lucifer, just before he fell." _And he was the brightest and best of the angels, wasn't he? _

"Why are you so embarrassed, Kensi?" Marty asked disingenuously as exited the room post haste.

"I am not embarrassed!" she hissed. _Nope, I'm mortified. And I've just realised that I'm not wearing a bra and this shirt is totally see-through._

* * *

><p><em>The poem quoted is "I must have done something amazing" by Erika Jong. It's long been a favourite of mine.<em>


	27. Chapter 27

Patting her hair hastily into place, Kensi plastered an insincere smile onto her face and opened the door. "Hi, guys. What brings you by?"

Sam looked at her suspiciously, taking in the mussed hair, the shirt buttoned up wrongly and the general, unmistakable air of a woman who had just been made love to most thoroughly. "We thought we'd come by and see how Deeks was getting on." _What have you been doing to him, Kensi? First you insult him, then you shoot him in the butt and now it looks like you've been making him take part in some sort of sexual Olympics. Can't you just let him rest for a bit?_

"Oh, he's fine," Kensi assured him breezily. _Go away._

"Kensi, he's recovering from a bullet wound and he's got strep throat. That's hardly 'doing fine', by anyone's standards," Callen commented_. She's not wearing a bra. Interesting. The fact that she's not wearing a bra, I mean. Although her breasts are interesting too. Jeepers, I have to hand it to Deeks – even wounded and he 's still getting some action. And with Kensi, to boot. The guy is seriously impressive_. "Aren't you going to ask us in?" There was a twinkle in his eye, as it was only too obvious that Kensi wished they were anywhere other than standing on Deeks' doorstep.

_Why don't you just fuck off, Callen? And take Sam with you._ "Sure. Come on in." She stood aside and let them in to the apartment.

"I brought some soup." Sam held up a grocery bag. "I know what your cooking's like." _Beware of NCIS agents bearing gifts, Kensi – you never know what they'll uncover. Although in Kensi's case, I'm pretty sure that what she really wants to uncover is Deeks. _

"There's nothing wrong with my cooking." _I can buy a ready-meal and nuke it in the microwave as well as the next woman._

"I brought ice cream." Callen walked into the kitchen and stowed it safely in the freezer. "I figured it was the best thing for a sore throat. Our boy still in bed?" _Or didn't you let him get that far before you had your wicked way with him? Please tell me you've not left him lying on the living room carpet begging for mercy?_

Kensi nodded. "Of course he's in bed. He's sick, remember?" _And he'd better not be lying there with that smug smirk on his face, because that will give away everything. I'm able to hide things from Callen and Sam, but Marty won't be able to stand a chance. I'm a skilled and highly trained agent, I know how to hide my feelings. There's no way they can have guessed what's been going on in here. Not from me, anyway. But I bet Marty gives it away in ten seconds._

Callen gave her a long and searching look. "Oh, I remember, Kensi. You just make sure you don't tire him out too much." _Kensi, you're as transparent as glass. I can see straight through you._

As she feared, Marty was reclining comfortable on the pillows, with a slight but unmistakable smirk on his face. "Nice to see you," he croaked in a pathetic voice, and did that soulful puppy act he had down to perfection, Kensi thought.

_Who do you think you're kidding, Marty? Not ten minutes ago you were as rampant as a lion and now you think you can pull off the wounded hero act and get some sympathy? Well, they're not going to buy it. Not for one second. It's a good thing you've got me to cover your back. Of course, that's not the only bit of you I'd like to cover._

Sometimes, Sam worried about Kensi. This was definitely one of those times. As she looked at Deeks her eyes grew tender and soft and her whole body language seemed to change. She'd never exactly been subtle about the way she felt about Deeks, despite all the smart and often disparaging remarks she made about him. He and Callen had spotted that from the start, when she'd mooned over the fake DMV photo of Jason Wyler, and they'd frequently teased her about the "thing" she had for her partner, but over the past few days it had been impossible to ignore the fact that something was definitely going on between them. Only he couldn't quite work out what it was – just sex (and amazingly good sex, from the looks on both their faces) or was it something deeper? One thing was clear though – right now Kensi couldn't act her way out of a paper bag. "You look shattered, man. You should take better care of him, Kensi."

"She's been doing her best." Marty gave a brave smile. "I'm just not a very good patient."

"You looked shagged out." Callen was fully aware of the double meaning. As indeed was everyone else, but they let it pass. "I brought you ice cream, by the way." Callen said. "I thought it would be easy to swallow. You do like ice cream, don't you?"

"I love it. That sounds really good right now. I just hope my nurse lets me have some." Marty gave another heart-wrenchingly weak look and watched in considerable satisfaction as Callen rushed out of the room.

"I'll let you have it, Marty. Don't you worry about that."

"You really shouldn't let him lie there with wet hair, Kensi. That's not good for someone who's sick." Sam shook his head at her, and cast a significant look at her own, very damp, hair. He went into the bathroom and returned with a towel.

"I felt I needed a shower, but then I just felt exhausted afterwards. It really seemed to take it out of me." Deeks looked up at Sam with wide blue eyes and submitted tranquilly to the older man rubbing his hair dry with remarkable tenderness, as Kensi suppressed an urge to hit him, very hard indeed. The trouble was, she now knew exactly how much he would enjoy that. _Just you wait till I've got you alone, Marty Deeks. Just you wait._

"Here you go." Callen came back in, carrying a bowl laden with ice cream. "Be careful now. Your hands are shaking." _You would have thought Kensi could have found him a t-shirt from somewhere. She really doesn't have a clue how to look after someone who's sick. It's a good thing Sam and I stopped over. God only knows what she would have done to him._

"I'll be careful," Deeks promised him solemnly. "I certainly wouldn't want to spill this down myself." He gave Kensi a reproachful look and she almost choked.

_Just look at you, sitting there and looking as if that ice cream wouldn't melt in your mouth, with your hair all fluffed up from the towel . Just look at you... dammit, why can't I take my eyes off you? You're taunting me with that ice cream, that's what you're doing. _"It was really nice of you guys to come over, but hadn't you better be getting back to work now?"

"Oh, there's no rush," Sam said making himself comfortable. "No rush at all."

"We're here on Hetty's express orders," Callen amplified.

Kensi couldn't believe what she was hearing. "She doesn't trust me, does she?"

"You can't exactly blame her, can you? First you shoot Deeks, then you let him lie around with wet hair. And he doesn't exactly look as if he's been resting." Callen was really enjoying this.

"Yeah, you'd better get some shut eye before Hetty comes round. Otherwise she's going to read Kensi the riot act."

Marty sat bolt upright and the spoon fell from his suddenly nerveless hand. "Hetty's coming? Here?" he rasped in horror. _Oh crap. And I'm sitting here stark naked under the covers._

"Oh dear, Marty. You've dropped ice cream all down your chest. Want me to clean that up for you?" It was very slight revenge, but under the circumstances, it was the best Kensi could manage.

"And while you're mopping Deeks up, you can tell us exactly what's going on. Or would you prefer to wait until Hetty gets here."

"There's nothing going on," Kensi said, trying very hard to not to grit her teeth. She wrung out a wash cloth under the cold tap and flung it at Marty. "Clean yourself up, Deeks."

Sam made a tutting sound under his breath. "Come on. We all know you're stuck on him."

"Smitten," Callen amplified.

They both looked at Deeks, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever. So I'm irresistible?"

Kensi felt as if she was having deja vue. "It's just a thing," she managed and then grabbed the wash cloth, retreated to the bathroom and locked the door firmly behind her.


	28. Chapter 28

Kensi looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and recoiled in horror: not only was that bloody semi-transparent shirt absolutely leaving nothing to the imagination, but it was buttoned totally incorrectly, with a large gaping hole that gave any viewer an unobstructed view of her right nipple. And as for her hair – well, the less said about that, the better.

"Shit." _I look like I've been rolling around in the hay. That's the last time I have shower sex and I don't care what Marty says._

Well, there was nothing she could do about the lack of a bra or the revealing nature of her shirt, except to rebutton it correctly, but she could try and make herself look slightly more presentable, Kensi thought. Or she might have been able to, if only that damned man had the basics of hair care in his bathroom. Other than shampoo, there was nothing – no conditioner, hairdryer or brush anywhere to be seen. It looked like Marty's entire hair care regime consisted of washing and then going. Which was so unfair, given the wonderful results, when she just ended up looking like one of the guilty parties in the Salem witch trials. It was only after rummaging around in both cupboards and all the drawers in the vanity that she finally unearthed an elderly comb that was missing several teeth and managed to drag it through the matted mess that was her hair, pulling out a couple of medium-sized clumps in the process. Several more teeth were missing from the comb by the end of the process and Kensi's temper was none too sweet.

_Never again. I'm never staying here again. Next time he can jolly well come over to my place. Or maybe not. Not until I've saved up enough to hire some industrial cleaners to get rid of some of the mess and grime. Which just goes to show how hopeless all this is. We're too different to ever hope to making a go of things. I'm a pack rat and he's too freaking tidy for words. And it's not like it was ever going to be going anywhere, anyway. Face facts, Kensi – this is a one-night stand that's stretched over a few days. It doesn't mean anything. It's just sex. You are not in love with Marty Deeks, because that would be plain stupid. So why am I thinking about the next time? What's wrong with me? _

Splashing some cold water onto her face in order to try to tone down that treacherous post-orgasmic glow, Kensi tentatively opened the bathroom order and poked her head out cautiously. The coast was clear, in as far as there was no sign of either Callen or Sam. Marty was lying on his stomach, snoozing contentedly and there was a small, yellow square stuck to the sheet that covered his butt. She crept closer and, on inspection found it was a Post-it note.

"Hands off:  
>I am asleep.<br>Do not disturb.  
>P.S. that means you, Kensi."<p>

"You guys think you are so funny, don't you?" Kensi stomped into the living room and glared balefully at Sam.

"It worked, didn't it?" Sam was sitting on the couch, drinking beer and watching the football. He looked inordinately comfortable. "It got you to leave the poor man alone, so that he could finally get some rest. Don't you think his butt's taken enough abuse?"

"What's he been telling you?" Kensi asked, trying to suppress the feeling of terror that was rising_. If you've told them about me spanking you, Marty Deeks, I will kill you. Very slowly. And I'll enjoy every minute of it._

"Nothing. Should he have?" Sam managed to tear his eyes off the screen, because it looked like there had been rather more action going on off-screen than he'd imagined.

"Of course not." Kensi leant back on the cushions with relief.

"Is this yours?" Callen came through with more beers, and a certain undergarment dangling by one black strap from the crook of his elbow. "Only it's not Deeks' size. He's a B cup."

Sam accepted a beer and unhooked the bra. "We found it when we were putting Deeks to bed and straightening things up. He said he can't sleep in a messy room."

Kensi grabbed the offending article and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. "One of those beers for me? How about them Rams?" She took a long swallow and pretended to watch the screen avidly, ignoring the sniggers her colleagues exchanged at her discomfiture. _Honestly. Man can be so juvenile sometimes._ "What time did you say Hetty was coming over?" Now seemed as good a time to change the subject as any.

"I didn't say. Probably later. You know how Hetty is – usually the first one in of a morning and the last to go home. Has Deeks got any chips through there, Callen?"

"No idea. Go have a look." Callen had just made himself comfortable in a leather recliner and had no plans on moving any time soon. "And while you're on your feet, see if he's got any pizza."

"I already looked. No such luck. How about I text Hetty and get her to bring some over?"

"Great idea." Callen pressed a switch so that the chair raised his feet up and then started to emit a low buzzing noise. "Cool. He got the model with the built in vibrator." He shot a sideways looks at Kensi. "Sorry, I meant massage option."

Kensi decided to ignore that remark too. She seemed to be doing an awful lot of turning the other cheek today. "You can't text Hetty and tell her to bring pizza."

"Why not? That's what we usually do. Pepperoni okay for you, G?"

"You know it is. And extra cheese for Deeks."

"What do you mean 'that's what we usually do'?" Kensi would have had to be blind to miss the guilty looks that crept across both men's faces.

"When we have our poker nights," Callen mumbled.

"What? You guys get together and play poker and you don't tell me? You sexist pigs." She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"It's not remotely sexist. We already told you – Hetty's in on it."

"And exactly why does Hetty get invited and I don't?"

Sam pretended to think deeply. "Let me see. Well, in the first place, it was Hetty who set it all up. And in the second place, you can't play poker."

"I can so play poker. I've played with both of you before – and won." She folded her arms with a satisfied look.

"Kensi, we let you win," Callen said kindly. "You're a terrible poker player. Mainly because you can't bluff to save yourself."

"A bit like you can't hide the fact you've got it bad for Deeks." Sam's stomach gave an ominous rumble. "I hope Hetty doesn't take too long. A man could starve to death here. Why does Deeks never have any proper food – just all that healthy stuff?"

"You come here, don't you?" It was like adding insult to injury, Kensi thought. "This is where you all play poker – without me?"

They nodded in agreement.

"It's convenient. Even if the food's lousy."

Callen drained his beer with relish. "That's why Hetty started bringing the pizza. And Nell's cupcakes are good too."

"Cupcakes? How can you drink beer and eat cupcakes at the same time?"

"Pretty easily, actually," Sam informed her. It had seemed strange at first, but it was actually surprisingly good.

And then it struck Kensi. "Nell gets to play poker with you guys, doesn't she?"

Again the pair of twin nods, like a pair of bobbleheads. Only you could decapitate a bobblehead really easily, and without any blood.

"Sneaky player, our Nell."

Kensi was finding it increasingly hard to believe what she was hearing. "Anyone else you've forgotten to tell me about?"

"Just Eric."

"Just Eric? So, that would be the whole team then? Everyone except me? Thanks a bunch, guys. Thanks a bloody bunch."

"Don't be mad," Callen said soothingly. "Poker isn't your thing."

"Yes – but Deeks is." Sam popped open another couple of beers and handed one across to him. "He's exactly Kensi's thing. That's why she's mad that he's been playing without her."

"We didn't let Dom or Nate play either, if that's any consolation."

"Yeah, that really makes me feel a whole lot better." Kensi grabbed herself a beer and drank almost half of it in one long swallow. Which was a mistake, as she then had to belch.

"Classy."

That one word reminded her of Marty. Marty, who was lying sick and injured in the bedroom and just crying out for some tender, loving attention. Marty who'd been accepted into this frigging poker game without a question, and who'd even taken over hosting the damned thing. Marty, who she'd shot in the butt. Marty, who'd saved her life and given her the best sex on the planet, bar none. Before and after the accident, no less. Marty, Marty, Marty – why did everything seem to come back to bloody Marty Deeks?


	29. Chapter 29

"Get Hetty on the phone," Kensi said, and then chugged back the rest of the bottle. "And tell her to bring more beer. We're going to need it."

Sam did as he was told, knowing better than to mess with Kensi when she was in one of her moods. Judging it was safer to text than to speak aloud, his fingers flew over the keypad. _"SOS. K knows abt poker. V mad. Bring beer."_

"Did I hear someone say beer?" Deeks staggered groggily through. Kensi couldn't quite work out if she was relieved or disappointed to see that he was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt.

"Where did you get those from?" _Because I certainly didn't see them the other day. And I went through all the drawers in your dresser very carefully indeed._

"Back of my closet. Why?" _You've been going through my stuff, haven't you? Bet you didn't find my secret hiding place though._

"Because I would have got them out for you. All you had to do was ask." She gave him her sweetest smile, one that was only slightly flavoured with beer.

"I'm not sure you should be drinking," Callen said hesitantly, as Deeks snagged a beer and then settled himself comfortably on the couch, snuggling into Kensi, who briefly contemplated resistance, but was enjoying the way his body felt, leaning against her own too much.

"The hospital gave me express instructions to drink lots of fluids. Beer's a fluid." There was no faulting Deeks' impeccable logic.

"Yes, but you're on antibiotics. You can't drink on antibiotics."

"Actually, you can," Sam corrected gently. "You just get drunk a whole lot faster." _I think I was about 15 when I worked that one out. Boy, did Dad read me the riot act next morning. It took the rosebush by the front door about a year to recover and the goldfish was never quite the same afterwards._

"That's only the penicillin-based ones. I told them I was allergic." Deeks looked insufferably smug.

"You're not allergic to penicillin," Kensi protested. She'd been through every inch of his personnel file, having bribed Eric by threatening to telling Hetty about the 'emergency use only' joint he had taped underneath his desk in Ops.

"I know. But this way it means I can have a beer." He smiled beatifically at her and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Isn't this cosy?"

"We ordered pizza. Hetty's bringing it over with her. And she knows, by the way." Sam nodded at Kensi, who pulled away and scuttled over to the far corner of the couch.

"About the game?" Deeks looked slightly sick. "Oh."

"Oh indeed, you traitor." Kensi lobbed a pillow at Deeks with unerring accuracy, just as he raised the beer bottle to his lips, spilling a goodly amount down his shirt. "Thanks for nothing. Some partner you are."

"It could have worse. He could have shot you in the butt, Kensi."

"It was an accident," Kensi ground out.

"I believe you." Deeks patted her knee patronisingly. "But it wasn't my place to invite you anyway. I'm the newest member. If you're going to blame someone, blame them. Or Hetty." he dabbed ineffectively at his sodden garment and wondered if it would just be easier to suck the beer out.

"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Hetty came in, accompanied by the mouth-watering smell of pizza and the welcome clink of beer bottles.

Kensi looked at her with considerable befuddlement, being absolutely certain that she'd locked the door after letting Sam and Callen in. And then it dawned on her. "You've got your own key, haven't you?"

"Of course I do." Hetty sat herself down on the couch, cunningly placing herself between Kensi and Deeks, or a rose between two thorns , as she liked to think of it. "We all do. All the poker buddies, I mean."

"I don't! And I'm his partner." _Poker buddies? Excuse me while I throw up. If anyone had a right to the key to his apartment, it's me._

"It's handy for the games," Hetty said smoothly. "It means we don't interrupt the action if anyone is late. Mr Deeks, why are you soaking wet? I'm sure that can't be good for you."

"Kensi threw her beer over him. She's not very good at looking after sick people," Sam explained.

Callen took up the cudgels. "We found she'd left Deeks lying in bed with soaking wet hair, and Sam had to dry it for him."

"Excuse me? Why are you all talking about me as if I'm not here? Just because I can't play poker doesn't make me invisible."

"See, I knew she'd admit it sooner or later. That's why you're not part of the game, Kensi – because you can't play poker. Simples." Sam smirked at her in a superior manner. "And Deeks is shivering. Go help him get into something dry."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, Sam Hannah. And if Deeks wants to get into dry clothes, he can do it himself."

"That's not very kind of you, partner." Deeks gave a wholly unconvincing cough, followed by a convulsive shiver. "I guess I'll have to manage by myself. Somehow." He levered himself up painfully, manfully restraining a whimper. "Don't worry, Kensi, I'm not in too much pain. The agony's bearable. Just about." He patted his butt gingerly. "And the doctor said it wouldn't leave too huge a scar."

"For crying out loud. Are you forgetting I've seen the damage at close quarters? You've got a wound on your butt that's barely two inches long. And it only seems to bother you when you want it to. The rest of the time, you're perfectly fine."

"You want to tell us exactly when you were ogling Deeks' bare ass, Kensi? And why?" Callen regarded her curiously.

It was the proverbial last straw. "No I do not want to tell you. What I want is for you," she jabbed Deeks in the chest, "to get into the bedroom and for the rest of you to get out of here. And leave the beer and pizza when you go."

Kensi grabbed hold of Deeks' hand and dragged him along behind her as she made a strategic retreat. All the while Deeks could be heard saying plaintively, "Be gentle with me, Kensi. Remember, I'm not well."

"And about time too." Hetty stood up and rubbed her hands together briskly. "I've been wondering when those two would show some horse or common."

"Excuse me?" Sometimes Sam found it impossible to follow the convoluted turns of her mind. And that was on a good day. Which this was, incidentally. A very good day indeed. The things he'd seen…

"Sense, Mr Hannah, sense. Something neither of them have shown much of, recently. Young people today." She smiled at her two agents. "Of course, you are both much too old and much too sensible to indulge in such juvenile antics.

Callen loved the way Hetty could manage to insult and praise in one short sentence. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you engineered all this deliberately."

"Even I have my limits. Admittedly, they are few and far between, but they do exist."

He looked at the bedroom door, which was firmly closed. "Anyone else think that Kensi's pushing Deeks to his limits as we speak?" As long as she never found out that he and Sam had actually let themselves into the apartment fifteen minutes before she'd heard them knocking on the door, he reckoned they'd be fine – eventually. Even Kensi couldn't hold a grudge forever.

When they'd first arrived, the two agents had been concerned at the hoarse moaning coming from the bedroom.

"Jeepers – Deeks sounds like he's in a bad way." Sam had led the way along the hallway, full of concern for his colleague as the groans increased in volume. While Kensi had not only had her back (her bare back) to the door and had, in any case, been otherwise occupied, Deeks had seen their faces quite clearly as they'd peeked around the bedroom door. To his everlasting credit, he had not only given them a broad grin, but a 'thumbs up' into the bargain. You really had to admire the guy's style. Kensi certainly seemed to.


	30. Chapter 30

Kensi slammed the bedroom firmly behind her. "Alright – you want me to help you get changed? Then that's what I'll do. And after that, I'm out of here. And tomorrow morning, the first thing I'm doing is putting in for a transfer. Because I can't work with you any more. Is that clear enough for you? Or do you want me to put it in words of one syllable?" The anger seemed to radiate out from her.

"It's clear. Can you just tell me what I did wrong though?" _God, you are so sexy when you're angry, Kensi. Your eyes go all sort of dark and right now you look like you want to bite me or something. Never been bitten before, except by old Mrs Thomson's dog, and that doesn't really count. Being bitten by Kensi could be kind of interesting._

"You know exactly what you did." _Do not play the innocent victim with me. Don't you dare. You're the villain in this piece. All I did was shoot you in the butt. That gorgeous butt. That could be your super hero name: Wonder Butt._

"I accepted an invitation to play poker?" he ventured tentatively. _Go on, bite me. I know you want to. And I want you to. And actually, I want you to want to as well._

"And you let them leave me out. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?" Kensi could feel treacherous tears coming into her eyes.

_Okay, here we go. The truth's coming out now._ "You know something? I do. I know exactly how that feels. Because that's pretty much how you made me feel when I first joined. Excluded. Not welcome. Surplus to requirements. You want me to go on?"

"No, I don't."

"Hard luck. Because I've left this unsaid for too long. You were a bitch to me, Kensi. And Callen and Sam were just as bad. So when they finally accept me and ask me to a poker game, I'm supposed to say 'no', because you're not invited too? Don't make me laugh."

"And don't try to make me feel sorry for you, because it won't wash. I don't feel anything for you, understand? Nothing. Nothing at all. And anyway, this isn't about you, it's about me. Me, me, me." Her voice got noticeably higher in pitch and Marty winced.

"You want to try that in another key?" _That one just about ruptured my eardrums. God, I hope Hetty's taken the guys and got out of here. _

"Shut up and put your arms up."

Taken aback by her sudden change of tack, he obeyed without thinking and Kensi pulled off the beer-soaked t-shirt. "You stink."

"Sorry. This wild, crazy woman threw my beer all down my front. She's uncontrollable. And I'm mad about her. I might even be in love with her, but she doesn't want to know. She's never wanted to know. Not from the first time we met. All she's bothered about is my body." He looked at her steadily. "Not much fun hearing the truth, is it Kensi? I guessed what you were doing from the moment you walked in here that night. You needed someone and I just happened to fit the bill. So, you go, if that's what you want. I can't stop you, can I? You just use me and then you toss me away."

Kensi felt like her world was collapsing around her. "It wasn't like that. It was never like that." _How can you think that about me?_

"Really? Well, seeing as how you look mad enough to shoot me all over again, I guess I'd better believe you." Marty was aware that his pyjama bottoms were not in their first flush of youth and the elastic had definitely seen better days. They seemed to be sliding down over his hips. He had to act quickly to avert disaster. "Can I put my arms down, please? I think I'm starting to loose circulation in my hands."

"Why are you asking me_?" I'll never understand you, not if I live to be a hundred. But I'd love to try to find out what makes you tick._

Marty started to laugh, but there was no humour in the sound. "Why? Because I'm freaking terrified of you, Kensi. You've shot me, you've screwed with me mentally, you've screwed me physically and you're screwing me up right now. You've even spanked me, for God's sake. I must have been delirious when I thought we could make a go of things." _And I really did think that, because I'm obsessed with you._

"Put your frigging hands down now!" Kensi screamed. Goaded beyond belief, she slapped him across the cheek. "I've never met anyone so annoying in my whole life." _Why do you have to mess things up, Marty? Just when they were going so well. Can't you see that I love you? That I fell for you the day we met and I've been in freefall ever since?_

"Take a look in the mirror, why don't you?" he invited sarcastically.

"I hate you." She raised her hand again.

"Don't do it, Kensi."

It was as if she'd lost control of her actions and her hand seemed to move forward of its own volition, almost as if she was watching it in slow motion. And then Marty's fingers were clenched around her wrist, his grip biting into her skin and holding her arm firmly in place.

"I said: don't do it." He stared directly at her, daring her and yet taunting her and inviting her at the same time. Kensi's head was swirling with a myriad of conflicting emotions that were out with her control and one thought was predominant: _kiss me. Kiss me, you gorgeous, stubborn man. And then make love to me till I'm screaming for mercy._

_Don't look at me like that, Kensi. Don't. Because I'm trying really hard here, but I'm only human and I can only take so much. You want to see me melt like that ice cream, just because you're completely irresistible to me? Do you know how much I want you right now?_ And then the perished elastic in Marty's pyjama pants gave up the unequal struggle and they succumbed to gravity and slipped slowly to the ground.

"We're just going," Hetty said, popping her head around door. "Only I can see you're otherwise engaged." She retreated hastily, only to re-emerge seconds later. "Don't forget to put on some clothes afterwards, Mr Deeks. We don't want you to get pneumonia on top of everything else." She closed the door firmly behind her and hustled Sam and Callen out of the apartment.

Marty let go of Kensi's hand, which fell lifelessly back down to her side. "I give up. I totally give up. Why don't we just end this right here? You go home and I'll get myself transferred back to LAPD. Because I can't stand this any more."

"Or how about I just slap some more sense into that shaggy head of yours? Or somewhere else?"


	31. Chapter 31

_A huge "thank you" to every single person who has reviewed this story. I really appreciate it._

* * *

><p>Standing with his pyjama pants pooled around his ankles, Marty felt at a distinct disadvantage to the fully-clothed Kensi. In fact, now that he thought about it, in all their recent encounters, starting with the night she'd come over to 'check up' on him, he'd been playing from a decidedly inferior hand. It was starting to look like Kensi wasn't as bad a card player as everyone thought. Either that, or she cheated – got him at a low point and then exploited her advantage. Well, now he was about to level the score, once and for good, because all bets were well and truly off now. He started to bend down, reaching for the recalcitrant pants.<p>

"Not so fast. Exactly what do you think you're doing?" Kensi figured it was worth giving old dominance trick another try, seeing it had worked so well last time.

_Know exactly what you're trying, Kensi. I can see right through you, But this time, I'm not playing your kinky game. This time, I'm in charge. _Marty grabbed the waistband of his pants gratefully and yanked the PJs back up where they belonged. "I'm fed up with you staring at my junk." Oh, the sweet relief of feeling to old cotton, soft as a whisper, safely back up around his waist again.

"Your junk?" Sometimes Kensi felt she'd wandered into the male locker-room by mistake.

"My junk. Gear. Package. Lunchbox. Whatever. You were staring at me. At it." _And don't bother to deny it._

"You're staring at my breasts." _So that makes us even._

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have them quite so prominently on show then. At least I wasn't flaunting myself on purpose. Miss 'look at how tight my jeans are' Blye." _Not that I object to them being skin-tight. I'm not daft. Even if you think I am._

"You are impossible." _Why don't you just shut up and let me love you?_

"No, I'm incorrigible. There's a difference." He grinned sarcastically at her.

Kensi felt like tearing her hair out, but she'd lost enough already today, thanks to the paucity of hair-grooming products in Marty's bathroom. "Are you trying to give me lessons in grammar or something?"

"I'm trying to increase your vocabulary. Oh no, I forgot, you speak Spanish fluently, don't you?"

"And Portugese," she snapped back. "Not to mention… "

"Then don't mention it. Please. And grammar is about sentence structure, not about the individual words you use. Concentrate on getting things right in English, why don't you?"

"You are so cocky."

"Can I help it if you think so?" Marty smirked, while making sure to keep a tight hold on the pants. It was hard to maintain the upper-hand in an argument when you were stark naked, no matter how hard you tried to pretend it didn't matter. "Is there any chance of me getting a clean shirt, by the way? I would tell you where I keep them, but then you know that already, don't you?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

You are the worse liar ever, Kensi. "Confession is good for the soul. Admit it – you snooped."

"You asked me to get you some clothes," she prevaricated. It was the truth – it just wasn't the whole truth.

"So why did you have to go looking into the bedside cabinets?" Marty was beginning to feel like he was getting the upper hand at last_. I know exactly what you were looking for – and you didn't find it, did you? Do you really think I'm that daft that I'd keep that sort of thing in plain view, for people like you to find?_

"Some people keep their socks in there?" she tried lamely.

"Not me. By the way, you'd have saved yourself a lot of bother if you'd looked beyond the condoms. I keep the brush and comb at the back." _Not that I use them very often. No need._

"I found a comb in the bathroom. It was kind of ancient, but I managed." She watched in amazement as Marty screwed his face up in disgust.

"Yuk. That's the comb I use to groom the dog with. I hope you gave it a good wash before you used it."

Kensi had an irresistible urge to scratch her head, which suddenly seemed incredibly itchy. "Monty?" she asked feebly.

"Not Monty. I only borrow him on occasion. He actually_ is_ an LAPD sniffer dog. I don't know why you all have so much trouble believing that."

"Maybe because he looks like roadkill with a touch of mange? And he's not exactly dynamic, is he?"

"Maybe you should start to look below the surface a little bit more?"

"So where's this so-called dog of yours then_?" I bet he's imaginary. I could just see you with an imaginary pet. Other kids have imaginary friends, but you would have to be different, wouldn't you? Just to be contrary._

All the antagonism seemed to seep out of Marty's posture in an instant. "Ah. Yes. Well, you see - he died. At the vets. I had to have him put to sleep. It was the kindest thing to do. The morning I went back out as Max." He looked like a little boy standing there, his head bent and his hands tightly clasped.

"You never said."

"You never asked." _It was the last thing I could do for him – the last act of love. And it was so fucking hard, Kensi. He licked my hand right before the vet injected him. And then I had to come in to work and be bloody Max Gentry all over again._

Kensi reached forward and stroked his forearm gently. "Oh Marty, I'm so sorry. I really am sorry."

"He was only a dog," Marty mumbled. "But he was my dog. And I loved him." _Oh fuck, don't be nice to me, Kensi. Scream at me, make some disparaging remark, but don't be nice to me. Because I don't want to cry in front of you. That's the last thing I want to do._

"I know." Kensi pulled him towards her. "I know," she repeated and kissed him on the forehead. "Next time, don't keep things bottled up, okay? Talk to me. I'm you're partner. That's what I'm here for. I'm here for you. Always."

Marty let his head fall forward onto her shoulder. "Thanks." His arms were around her waist, and one automatically caressed her butt. "You feel so good." His body relaxed against hers and Kensi leaned into the embrace, burying her face in his hair. Which reminded her…

"Marty?" Her voice barely even qualified as a whisper, and the breathy notes flitted tantalisingly across his ear in a way that was incredibly erotic. "I realise this is incredibly bad timing, but… "

"You want to wash that dog right out of your hair?"

"Are you a mind reader or something?"

"Just your mind, Kensi." _From the moment we first met. I've been able to read you like a book. That's how I know what you feel, even though you keep denying it and trying to push me away. Because I just have to look at your face, and I know. And I know how I feel. So how come, if I know so much, I can't actually do anything to make this work? What the hell's wrong with me?_


	32. Chapter 32

"You can't hide anything from me, so don't even bother trying."

"Well, that's okay then. You're kind of in my head already anyway. What's that song - _Can't Get You Out Of My Head_? That pretty much sums up how I'm feeling." Kensi pulled away and smiled at him. "But it's alright. Don't worry. I'm not going to be one of those bunny boilers or keep phoning you up and demanding you play _Misty_ for me. Just let me wash my hair and then I'll leave you in peace." She was in the bathroom and the shower was already running before he had time to say a single word.

"_I don't believe it. Really. What the hell did I do to deserve this?" _Marty sat down incautiously on the bed and yelped sharply as his butt protested again the sudden action. "She's driving me crazy. Crazier." All of a sudden, the events of the day were catching up with him and a wave of exhaustion swept over him. The bed had never looked more inviting. He would just lie down for a few minutes, just as long as Kensi was washing her hair. And then when she came back through, they would talk properly. They would sit down and discuss things like two rational adults, who just happened to be head over heels in love with one another. Marty still wasn't quite sure how that had happened, but he wasn't about to deny it any longer.

Kensi washed her hair twice, just to be sure, rubbing the shampoo in well each time. As the water from the shower pounded down, she tried to make some sort of sense of things. It was no use. Non matter which way she looked at things – and even standing here, bent over double with her head somewhere around her knees – it didn't make any sense at all. She'd not been looking for love – but it had snuck up behind her and taken her unawares. Like some sneaky player in a game of touch football, Marty Deeks had fought his way into her life and into her heart. And who was she to resist? Sometimes the only sensible thing to do was just to go with the flow, to simply accept what had happened. Not that she could do anything else anyway. Because basically he just had to look at her and Kensi's knees started to tremble.

When she was finally satisfied that all possible traces of dog had been removed, Kensi squeezed the water from the hair and wrapped a towel around her head. Looking in the bathroom mirror, she saw that her face was pink and her eyes were shining. It wasn't her most sophisticated look, but it would do. It would have to do. Hopefully Marty liked the scrubbed wholesome type. Because she wasn't leaving until they'd sat down and finally talked – really talked. There were too many things she had left unsaid for far too long. And afterwards, if he still didn't want to know, then Kensi would leave. She was rather hazy on the details of what she would do once she left, but at least she had a plan.

Blotting her hair dry with the towel, Kensi opened the door and walked confidently into the bedroom. Once again, she was greeted by the familiar sight of a blond head buried in the pillows. She could have wept with frustration. But he was sick – and it had been a long and rather action-packed day. Creeping around the bed as quietly as possible, she eased open the drawer of the bedside cabinet and rummaged around until her hand landed upon a brush, stuck right at the back. Grasping hold of it triumphantly, she pulled it out and sat at the foot of the bed, easing it through the long tangles of hair and taking occasional glimpses at her progress in the floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the wardrobes.

"Let me help you?"

Kensi had been so preoccupied that she'd not even noticed the stirrings in the bed, far less the fact that Marty was now kneeling behind her. "Sure. Why not?" She held out the brush and Marty moved closer, so that there was barely an inch between them. "I thought you were asleep."

"How could I sleep with a hot girl sitting on my bed doing her hair and looking incredibly sexy? A hot girl who drives me crazy, and not only because she's not wearing a bra?" Marty took the brush and began to pull it smoothly down through the length of her hair, smoothing any flyaway strands with his other hand. "That was the first thing I noticed about you – your hair. I've always been a sucker for a pretty girl with long hair." He continued to brush her hair with long, smooth strokes and Kensi found herself relaxing against him.

"I saw you the moment I walked into the gym. You were right at the back but I spotted you immediately - this guy with golden hair and looking like a pouting angel. You were scowling and looking like you wanted to hit someone."

"I wanted to hit on you – does that count?" The wholesome smell of shampoo was mixing with a deeper, more sensual scent and the combination was just about putting his spine out of place.

The bristles on the brush were making her scalp tingle. "Sure it does." Kensi leaned back briefly against him and smiled at their reflections in the mirror. _We look so good together._

"So you noticed my hair and the fact I wasn't in a good mood. What else?" Marty was beginning to find it very hard to concentrate on anything except Kensi and how good she smelt, the way her hair felt like silk and the fact that he wanted her so badly it hurt.

"That you were fit. And had the cutest butt and the best eyes." This so wasn't going the way she'd planned it, but who gave a toss? This was just too good for words. Kensi felt cosseted and safe and turned on at the same time.

Marty bent his head down. "I noticed your breasts," he whispered and the brush fell onto the bed. "Couldn't help it. Can't help myself now." He was kissing her neck and his hands were caressing her breasts and it was the easiest thing in the world for Kensi to reach up and run her hands through his hair. And they were already on the bed and neither of them was wearing much in the way of clothing and… And they could talk tomorrow. Or the next day. Or even the day after that. Because there were more important things to be getting on with. And because, for better or worse, they were in love. Hopelessly, carelessly, fearlessly, head over heels in love.


	33. Chapter 33

Marty woke up in the middle of the night, with a sensation that something was definitely not right. For a moment, he wondered if it was another nightmare, but quickly realised it was just Kensi, thrashing around in the bed, and seemingly trying to push him out.

"Haven't you maimed me enough?" he whispered into her ear, and slid his arms around her, holding her securely. "I know they say 'you always hurt the one you love', but this is getting ridiculous." She seemed to calm down a little at that, but her eyebrows were crunched together and she had a look of intense concentration on her face. "You want to relax a little, baby girl?" He stroked her hair gently. "Just relax. Everything's alright. Everything's just fine. You're safe. I'm right here."

Kensi smiled at that, even though she was still soundly asleep and he could feel the tension seep out of her. Somehow, it seemed easier to talk to her while she was asleep, cradled in his arms, so Marty settled himself a little more comfortably against the pillows. "You've got me going crazy here, Kensi. It's like I say 'push' and you say 'pull', just for the hell of it. And you know what? I kind of like it. I like the way I never quite know what you're going to do next. I even quite like the spanking. Okay, I liked that a lot."

He was still stroking her hair, his hand travelling from the top of her head, right down the whole length and further still, lingering for a moment in the small of her back before finally settling on her ass. "You've got a great butt, Kensi. I know you work out at the gym, but believe me, it's worth it. The rest of you is pretty great too, I've got to admit it." Marty looked up and saw their shadowy reflection in the mirrors. "And we look so good together – like we were meant to be together." He could see the way her head was lying trustingly on his chest, the slight smile on her face and the way her hand was gently curved around his arm.

"I just wish you could trust me, Kensi. Let me in. Because I'd do anything for you. I'd even throw myself in front of a car for you."

"I know," she said, and her hand tightened around his arm. "You already did that. Remember?" _Because I'll never forget that. Not ever. You keep looking out for me, don't you? And that makes me feel so safe._

"Right enough. I must have memory loss or delayed concussion." Marty moved his arm so that it was around her shoulders, holding her close. "I thought you were asleep." _I wouldn't have said all that if I thought you could hear me. Even if I did mean every word._

"I was. But then someone started stroking me and telling me how hot I was." Finally, Kensi moved her head so that she was looking at him and maybe it was the dim light, but Marty could have sworn that her eyes looked soft and inviting. "Tell me again how much you love me?" _Tell me how we're meant to be together._

"More than anything. You drive me insane, but I love you." _There, I've finally said it. For better or worse, I've finally said it._

"Good. I thought so." _It's like the Hallelujah Chorus is going off inside my head. Or that bit from Ode to Joy._

"You can be so smug sometimes, you know that?" He pushed he hair back from her forehead and kissed it. "Good thing I'm crazy about you."

"Crazy in love."

"Something like that. Or maybe I'm just crazy." _I'm finding it hard to think rationally right now. I'm finding it hard to breathe, come to that._

"Could be all those whacks you've taken to the head. But I don't care." Kensi gave a small sigh of contentment. "And, by the way, 'baby girl' is one hell of an improvement on 'Fern'. But then, that wouldn't be hard." She rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows. "So, aren't you going to ask me?" _Come on, you know you want to._

"Ask you what?" _Two can play at that game._

"If I love you." _Go on, ask me._

Marty shrugged his shoulders. "I figured you'd tell me when you were good and ready." I'm not going to ask you. That would be like begging.

"Oh, I'm ready." She grinned mischievously. _How could I not be, lying here next to you?_

"Ready to tell me or ready for something else?" _I'm ready. Obviously._

"I can tell you're ready." _But then you can't exactly hide something as big as that._

"Yeah, that's kind of a giveaway. But we were talking about you." _You're avoiding saying it. Why?_

"So we were." Kensi moved over so that she was draped across his chest once again. "Marty Deeks – it's official. I don't not love you."

"That's the best you can do?" He slapped her butt. "Then I guess that's as good as it's going to get." For some reason, he felt kind of deflated.

"Idiot. Don't you know?" _How can you not know, Marty?_

"Obviously not." _You don't love me, do you? And I've just made a complete idiot of myself._

She surveyed him curiously. "You need me to say it, don't you?" _You're pouting. Just ever so slightly, but there's definitely a pout there. And it's adorable._

"It is kind of customary." _Please Kensi – just say it. _

Heaving a martyred sigh, Kensi kissed him lightly. "I love you. Always have. Always will. Okay?"

"That'll do nicely." Marty took her in his arms and kissed her properly, one of those deep kisses that leaves you gasping for air and wondering if the earth really did tremble just a little bit.

"It certainly will. You really are feeling better, aren't you?" _You feel great. Better than I could ever put into words. Let me show just how much I love you,_

"I feel fine." _Even more so now we're got that sorted out. _Kensi's hands were roving everywhere and it was becoming difficult to concentrate, or even to focus.

"You certainly do. Very fine indeed. That's one of the things I love about you. I love how you love me."


	34. Chapter 34

"I really hate this." Kensi sat indian-style on the bed, sipping her coffee and watching Marty sleeping. "Going out and leaving you, I mean. But I've got to go to work today." She would have given anything to stay, to pull off her clothes and get back underneath the covers and just spend the day in bed, talking about everything and nothing, in the way that new lovers do in the early, halcyon days when the world seems to move at a slower pace and everything is golden. "But I've got to go." She finished the coffee and left the room, not quite daring to look back, for fear that she would be too tempted. The door shut with a hollow sound behind her.

She had to make a pit-stop at her own apartment first. It was going to be bad enough turning up at the Mission as it was, without adding fuel to the fire by wearing the same clothes Callen and Sam had seen her in yesterday. Kensi was dreading what kind of reception she would have from them, so to come into a quiet," Morning, Kensi," was a decided anti-climax.

"I bought coffee," she announced. "And donuts." It wasn't bribery – not exactly. It was a little sweetner. Things always seemed better with a little sugar in your system.

Sam selected a donut with sugar sprinkles on top. "Very kind of you." He chewed appreciatively. "Good to have you back. And how's Deeks this morning?"

"He's doing fine," Kensi said as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"Good. Glad to hear it. Any chance of me getting one of those donuts before Sam eats the whole box?" Callen pointed to her desk. "I left you a file to go through. Latest update report on that Columbian you were interested in a while ago." He returned his attention to his PC, trying not to laugh as Kensi tried to work out why she wasn't being ragged within an inch of her life.

"_This is killing her."_ Callen fired off a quick email to Sam.

The reply was almost instant. _"I know. And the suspense is almost killing me. What do you think happened?"_

"_Plenty. Have you seen those bags under her eyes? She wasn't sleeping, that's for sure."_

"_So we continue to play it cool?"_ Sam really wanted to know exactly what had gone on last night, especially as Hetty had been so tight-lipped about whatever it was that she had seen.

"_She'll crack. I give her an hour."_ Callen held up a $10 dollar bill with an enquiring look on his face.

"_Done. I'll say forty-five minutes. Kensi never was very patient. She likes instant gratification."_

He was quite right – patience had never been one of Kensi's virtues. Under cover of flipping through the file, she managed to send a text message_. "Had to go. Missing you. K xxx."_ Looking up at the clock, she suppressed a sigh. She'd only been here for fifteen minutes and yet it seemed like an eternity.

Callen and Sam's PC's gave a double ping as they registered an incoming email.

"_Give Ms Blye a little credit, gentlemen. The smart money is on five hours. Hetty."_

* * *

><p>Marty was in the middle of an exceptionally pleasant dream, one that revolved him writing intricate Japanese calligraphy on Kensi's back using Dulce de Latte, and then starting to do elaborate curlicues on her butt when this annoying wasp started to buzz around, threatening to ruin the moment. It took a few seconds before he realised that the noise was actually coming from his cell, vibrating wildly on the wooden surface of the bedside cabinet and just like that, the dream was gone, just as it was getting really exciting. <em>Story of my life. Absolutely typical.<em>

Stretching out a hand, he grabbed hold of it and rubbed his eyes before reading the text message, and then realised that he was alone and that the bed felt cold and empty, containing nothing but the faintest hint of Kensi's perfume and one long dark hair lying on the pillow next to his. Marty picked it up and wound it around his finger, wondering what on earth he was going to do now. This wasn't how he'd planned things: this wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Talk about a rude awakening.

"_You didn't say good bye."_ After sending the text, Marty lay staring up at the ceiling, trying to work out what to do next, while all the time that damned dream kept replaying in his head. And then his bladder reminded him that he'd drunk about a quart of juice yesterday and it was currently straining to cope. By the time he got back to bed, his cell was buzzing again.

"_Didn't want to wake you. See you tonight?"_

He felt kind of bad doing this, but there really was no choice. There was nothing like the sheer and blessed relief of peeing to put things into a proper perspective. They'd said a whole lot of things last night, both caught up in the moment. Only that moment was gone, just like Kensi. Marty had made a decision, and he had to stick to it, so he picked up the cell and composed another text. _"Can I have a raincheck?"_ His finger hesitated, hovering over the 'send'button for several seconds.

_Come on man, have the courage of your convictions. Just do it._ But he really felt terrible after the message was sent and the bed had never felt bigger or more empty. He needed help, Marty realised. _Oh well, here goes nothing. _Her number was the first on his speed dial and she answered on the first ring.

"I really need your help."

"Mr Deeks?" Hetty sounded concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know." Marty hated to ask, but what choice did he have?

* * *

><p>"Is everything okay?" Callen's voice broke into her thoughts and Kensi pulled her gaze away from the screen of her cell.<p>

"Everything's fine. Absolutely fine." _Apart from the fact that my world's just fallen apart. A raincheck? He wants a raincheck when he could have me? What's going on here? _She shoved the cell underneath the file, because he wasn't going to send another message, that much was clear.

"Are you sure?" Sam looked at her carefully. "Because you really don't look to good."

"Maybe you're coming down with something?"

_How about a bad case of the blues?_ Kensi wasn't about to tell them she'd been stood up. Or should that be dumped? No matter how she phrased it, it still sucked. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"Then some fresh air should do you a world of good." Hetty's old-fashioned belief in the healing properties of fresh air and exercise, followed by a nice cup of tea was legendary. She handed Kensi a piece of paper. "Newport Beach should fit the bill. I need this package collected in person."

"Sure. Why not." Kensi grabbed her car keys and mooched outside. _At least I don't have to sit around doing nothing and just waiting for the guys to start teasing me. Sitting in nose to tail traffic on the freeway was infinitely preferable to that. And he's just a man. Not even that special. And he pretty much deserved to be sot in the butt. It's like reverse karma or something._

Callen had never seen Kensi look so strangely vulnerable back and wanted to run after her, and give her a hug "She's got it so bad."

"What – strep throat? Then she shouldn't have French-kissed Deeks." Sam turned around and gave Hetty a very old-fashioned look. "And that counts as cheating, Hetty. Getting Kensi out of the way of temptation like that. Do you need to win the bet so badly?"

"You misjudge me. I was merely doing Mr Deeks a favour." Hetty's eyes twinkled. "He asked for my assistance. And, in turn, I am asking for yours."

"I've got a nasty feeling I'm not going to like this."

"Me too. And I've got an even nastier feeling we're not going to have a choice in the matter."

"Congratulations, gentlemen – you both win a coconut." She rubbed her hands together gleefully. "I have a plan." _And Kensi, my dear, you shall go to the ball – via Newport Beach._

* * *

><p><em>Slushy plot bunny just bit my butt and said I am a bad, bad Maxie. Poor Kensi could have a nasty accident in her state of mind. Tune in tomorrow to find out what Hetty and marty have planned for her...<em>


	35. Chapter 35

Being out of the Mission for a few hours had helped to clear Kensi's head slightly. And listening to the loudest music she could find had helped as well. There was nothing quite to beat the experience of driving fast and screaming along with Meatloaf to 'Bat Out Of Hell' at the top of her voice either. So what if she got strange looks from the other drivers? Who gave a flying fig? Not her, that was for sure. Consequently, Kensi felt ready to face almost anything when she got back to the Mission, toting Hetty's all-important package. What she was not prepared for was to find the OSP was effectively deserted.

"Okay guys, I'm so not in the mood to start playing hide and seek. Come out, come out, wherever you are." She dumped the parcel on her desk and sneaked a look underneath, just in case they had descended to new level of inanity. "This is so not funny. And Hetty will be mad that you're fooling around again." Only she quickly realised that Hetty wasn't there either.

_They must be in the gym._ Kensi jogged over there, but while there were several other NCIS agents working out, there was no sign of either Sam or Callen, far less Hetty. There was no trace of them in Ops either, and neither Eric or Nell were around either.

_Either they've all been spirited away by aliens, or they've all gone off somewhere together and left me behind. Again._

Spitefully, Kensi really hoped it was alien abduction, and that they were currently being probed and experiencing pain and humiliation. That would teach them and let them know exactly how she felt. _This day has to rate as one of my all-time worst._

It was only when she got back to her desk, that Kensi thought to check her emails and found one from Hetty, telling her to take the rest of the day off due to the "exceptional circumstances" of the past few days. Well, that was one way of putting it. Sheer, unadulterated hell was neared the mark though. Mind you, some parts had been good. Very good indeed. Only she wasn't going to think about that, because it was in the past, but more importantly, it had been a huge mistake. Almost as big a mistake as electing Dubbyah not once, but twice.

Normally, being given an unexpected half-day free gratis would have been like getting a snow-day from school, but for once Kensi didn't feel that giddy 'I can do anything I want' sensation, and she certainly didn't fancy going to the movies by herself, or even getting a manicure, although she certainly could do with one. All she could think of was the state her apartment had been in that morning, and the huge pile of laundry that had overflowed from the hamper. If she didn't do something about that soon, it would begin to take over. And she wasn't entirely sure that she even had any clean underwear. Catching up on her housework wasn't the most exciting way to spend the remainder of the afternoon, but it was necessary.

Kensi was just pulling up outside her building when the text message arrived. Two words: _"Bite me." _She didn't recognise the number.

"_Fuck off, pervert." _She was so not in the mood for some creep stalking her. Only there was the chance that he was actually somewhere around, and watching her.

_That serves you right for thinking this day couldn't get worse. You're going to have to learn to keep your big mouth shut, Kensi._

It could be something, or it could be nothing, but there was no point in taking any chances. Her apartment was on the ground floor, and her door was around back, away from immediate view. She pulled her gun out and started to edge cautiously around the side of building. And there this guy in a hoodie, sitting on the low parapet wall, with his back to her. Sitting right outside her front door, for Christ's sake. With his hood up on a day when the sun hadn't stopped shining. _I have to get the stalker with the IQ in single figures. _

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Kensi rammed her gun under his jaw. "One wrong move and I'll blow your head off. So think very carefully before you say anything."

"That's really not the sort of blow job I had in mind, Kensi." Marty put his hands up in the air. "What can I say except: take me. I'm yours."

"I wouldn't take you if you came free in a packet of cereal." Kensi shoved her gun back in her holster, just in case she was tempted to do something stupid. And right now, that was such an inviting prospect.

"Will you take these?" He reached down and picked up a huge bunch of marguerites. Possibly the biggest bouquet Kensi had ever seen in her life. It was so large that she found herself cradling the flowers in her arms like a baby.

"What's this for?" The sweet scent of the daisies was floating up around her. _You would have to go and do something like this, wouldn't you? Why? Why can't you just leave me alone, Marty?_

"To say thank you?" Marty shrugged his shoulders.

"For looking after you?" _I didn't do that much. Apart from ruining one of your cooking pots and then screwing your brains out._

"Not exactly." He almost looked bashful. "For being you." Marty gave an uncomfortable wriggle. "Any chance we could go inside?"

"Either your butt's killing you, or you need to pee. So which one is it?"

"How about both?"

"Don't bother trying to guilt-trip me. Shooting you was an accident." _That time. I'm not giving any guarantees about next time._ "And it's about time you learned better bladder control. Why can't you just go outside, like you did that time in the desert?"

"Because this isn't the desert, it's LA and I don't exactly want to be arrested for indecent exposure. Come on, Kensi, I really need to pee." He stood up and looked at her. "And then I'll go. If you want me to?"

"I want you to go. And you can take your lousy rain-check and your stupid flowers with you."

"Fair enough. So can we go in now. Please?"

"Only because I don't want anyone to see me with some incontinent guy who's peed in his pants. I have to live here, you know. That's the only reason I'm letting you in. Understand?"

"Sure." Marty gave her a meek look. "I'm pretty much house-trained and I promise I won't leave the seat up. Or pee on the floor."

"Shut up." _Oh God, why did I leave the place in such a mess? And he's such a neat freak… what the hell is he going to think? And why do I even care? So I'm a slut – so what?_ Kensi suddenly had a brainwave and thrust the flowers into his arms. "Stay right there. I need to get something from my car. And don't even think about turning round."

Sure enough, the scarf was there, right at the back of the glove compartment. She returned to find Marty still obediently standing staring at her door. He didn't protest when she wrapped the scarf around his eyes.

"I love the way you're so confident in your sexual life that you don't care about what the neighbours might say."

"Shut up and get inside." Kensi unlocked the door and pushed him forward, none too gently. _With any luck he might trip up over one of my laundry piles and break his stupid neck._

"So, what exciting game do you have planned for me, Mistress Kensi? Are you going to make me be your sex slave again?" Marty asked ingenuously, only just managing not to go headlong when his foot caught on the door mat. He grabbed onto the side of the door to steady himself and hung on, blocking Kensi's passage.

"Shut up." _Just get inside, will you? Anyone could see us._

"Oh, are we doing the dominatrix bit again? I liked that. Onnly I don't want to wear the dog collar again. How about you wear that black leather corset and the fishnet stockings and whip me?" One of her neighbours had to be walking past just as Marty was prattling away in a loud voice, and Kensi could only give a weak smile.

_Great. You've ruined my reputation at work, and now you're making everyone think I'm the local hooker_. "I told you too shut the fuck up." She slapped him on the butt and was highly gratified to see how effective that was and to hear the pained yelp.

"Sorry, mistress. I'll be a good boy."

"That'll be a first," Kensi muttered under her breath and finally managed to get inside and shut the door behind her.


	36. Chapter 36

It was the space that stunned her – the fact that there was space. This certainly wasn't the apartment she'd left this morning after her flying pit-stop for clean clothes. That apartment had a generous festooning of half-empty coffee cups and soft drinks cans on every surface and Twinkie wrappers and empty pizza boxes lying around artfully on the floor; it had piles of magazines teetering precariously beside the sofa , half of which was playing host to a vast quantity of clean clothes, which only had to be sorted, folded and then put away, when she got around to it. Only that moment never actually seemed to come up. But this didn't look anything like her apartment – it looked neat and tidy. And it looked clean. Hell, it even smelt clean.

"What the hell did you do?" she asked accusingly. _It might have looked like a mess, but I knew where everything was. More or less. Now you've gone and ruined my system and I'll never find anything._

Marty stood in the middle of the floor, still blindfolded and raised his hands up in a gesture of submittance. "Don't tell me I peed in my pants? Not after boasting I was housetrained?" He didn't sound in the slightest but subdued, Kensi realised and felt like bashing him over the head with that enormous bunch of daisies. Only they were so pretty…

"You cleaned my apartment, didn't you?" She reached forward and pulled off the blindfold. Marty blinked at the sudden bright light and then jumped backwards when he focused in on Kensi's face mere inched from his own.

"I might have done," he prevaricated.

"You had no right. No right at all." _Just like you had no right to be skulking around out there, or buying me flowers. And you certainly had no right to weasel your way into my heart. This is all some sort of game for you, isn't it? Do you get your kicks from sniffing bleach or something?_

"I wanted to do something nice for you. So bite me for caring." _Go on – you know you want to. Bite me on the butt._

And the crazy thing was, Kensi realised, she believed him. "You came over and spent the day clearing up my mess? And then you went out and bought me flowers_?" I really don't believe this is happening. Maybe I knocked my head when Nicole drove that car at me and this is all one of these crazy dreams?_

"Uh huh. I guess I should have gone with roses, only they seemed a bit clichéd." _Only I saw the daisies and I just had this stupid vision of you holding thm, and then burying your face them – and that was it. I bought every single bunch they had. Maybe I was thinking of those panties you've got? The ones with the lime-green daisies?_

"No," Kensi said slowly. "The daisies are perfect. They couldn't be more perfect." _A bit like you._ "So why did you stand me up, then? And how the hell did you get in here?"

"Hetty."

"Hetty told you to stand me up?"

"No." Marty shook his head slowly and then realised something. "Look, I actually wasn't kidding about needing to pee. I'll tell you in a minute."

"It's through there." Kensi started to explain but stopped herself. "Only you know that already, don't you? Seeing as you probably cleaned up in there too." _Oh damn. And I know I left that jumbo-sized box of tampons I got on special offer lying out on the counter. What must he think?_

"I might have done." He gave her a weak grin and disappeared down the hallway.

_I must have been very bad in a former life._ Kensi sat down on the sofa and tried to make sense of things. What kind of a man did something like this? Alright, that was actually pretty easy to answer: someone like Marty Deeks. Kind, funny, irresistible Marty Deeks. Who was so easy to love.

"You found the remote!" She picked it up with delight. "I've been searching for it for weeks."

"It was inside a pair of panties. Red, with a setting sun on the crotch?" Marty sat down beside her and clasped his hands between his knees.

_Oh well, he's seen me naked – several times. Why am I getting bent out of shape because he's seen my underwear?_ "I was wondering where they'd got to." Kensi got to her feet and picked up the daisies. "I really should get these into water." She raised them up to her face and sniffed rapturously and Marty felt as if all his dreams had coalesced into this one moment in time.

"You like them then?" _Maybe I wasn't so wrong after all. How great does she look?_

"I love them." She lifted her face up and Marty saw that her eyes were shining. "That's probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. Although scrubbing my toilet comes pretty close." _Who was I kidding when I thought I'd done something bad in a former life? I've got this lover who cleans my apartment and buys me flowers and makes love to me like the world is about to explode. I must have done something amazing to deserve this. I must have been a saint._ Only there was one thing still left hanging. "You were going to tell me about Hetty?" she prompted.

"Mmm. Hetty. Well, I kind of needed her approval, you see." Marty ahd the grace to look sheepish.

"You had to ask Hetty for permission to do some housework? Since when?"

Marty shook his head. "No, that was only a means to an end. Sort of. I mean, I didn't clean your apartment to get you into bed." _You really have to learn to think before you open your mouth, Deeks. Kensi might have shot me in the butt, but I'm doing a great job of shooting myself in the foot._

"I can't wait to hear this," Kensi was through in the kitchen, searching for a vase big enough to hold the flowers. It looked as if she was going to have to use several. _He must have bought up the whole shop. That's so romantic._

"I asked her if you could join the poker game. And I volunteered your place for tonight." Kensi turned around to find him leaning against the wall.

"What makes you think I'd want to join?" _Who am I kidding?_

"Because I want you there." _We never should have left you out. So what if you're a lousy card player? This isn't just about playing poker, is it?_

"Oh." Oh. My. God.." It like when she was a little girl and had fallen and skinned her knees - a couple of kisses from her mother and a bandaid and suddenly everything was better. "Oh well, if it means that much to you

"It does."

"So Hetty said yes?"

"She said yes," Marty agreed. "And then she said she'd better give me your spare key so I could come over and tidy up." He looked at her curiously. "Any particular reason you've got a photo of me on your kitchen wall, by the way?"


	37. Chapter 37

Marty looked at her curiously. "Any particular reason you've got a photo of me on your kitchen wall, by the way?"

Kensi gulped. "It hides a nasty spot that's lying there. I had a blender accident. You know how it is."

"Oh yes. I know." _I have these fantasies of you all the time._ _Right now I'm thinking about you wearing those setting sun panties and nothing else._

"So don't ask me to take it down or give it back. You know it doesn't mean that much to me."

"So it's just there 'because' – is that it?" Marty tried very hard not to smile at her discomfiture, but it was a losing battle. _God, you are so cute when you get confused._

"Yeah. Just because. So don't read anything into it, okay? And don't get me wrong - I'm not in love with you." _Why did I just say that?_

"Sure you are. You know it and I know it. The whole team knows it." Marty walked forward and Kensi found herself retreating so that her back was against the counter top and there was nowhere further she could go.

"Stop smiling at me like that." His hands were on the counter, one on either side of her and there was the biggest grin on his face. And there was no escape. "Why are you smiling at me like that? You don't know anything."

"Yeah, yeah. So why are you looking at me like I'm frelting? Is that 'just because' too?" Marty leaned in fractionally and their hips touched. "Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? You know how much I want you."

"You'll get over it," Kensi mumbled, letting her head fall forward onto his shoulder. "Just like you always do. You got over Nicole. And Jess – and all the others. You'll get over me too."_ Just for once, I want to be the most important person in someone's life._

"Not you. This is different. You're different. Can't you see that, Kensi?" One hand was stroking her back gently, while the other was caressing the nape of her neck. "You're my once and forever." Maybe it was easier this way, not actually having to look at her as he bared his soul. "And I want to be with you. Just because you're you. And because I love you."

That was it. There was no going back now. They'd both said and done too much for that ever to be a possibility.

"You're kind of nice to come home to," Kensi admitted and let herself mould into him, synchronising her breathing with his, feeling their two hearts beat together in the most primal of all rhythms. "I guess I could get used to this – to loving you. But are you ready for all this – for the long haul, I mean?" _Because I don't want this to be just another fling. I want the whole nine yards. I want you heart and soul._

"I'm ready. Never been so ready for anything." Marty put his hand underneath her chin and gently lifted, so that they were looking at one another. Their eyes locked and after a long moment, they kissed, gently at first, and then building in intensity as all the pent-up emotions were finally unleashed.

There comes a time when we all crave company and companionship; when being alone is quite simply untenable and the presence of a soul mate is the most important thing in the world - someone to walk along life's lonely highways with, when holding hands with yourself is no longer feasible, far less desirable. Who can tell what makes two diametrically opposed individuals suddenly realise that they are the missing elements in each other's existence. And does it really matter? Sometimes, the most important thing is just to accept what is, and to accept that simple fact without questioning and to allow yourself to live in the moment, while at the same time taking those tentative steps that build towards a future that will contain many more such moments. Companionship, support, love – these are the essential elements that make the human condition worthwhile and a journey to be treasured, rather than just endured. Much more than that, they make life something to be anticipated and rejoiced in. Without such peerless gifts, living becomes mere existence and the soul withers for lack of nurture.

When the kiss was finally over, Kensi snuggled in a little closer and wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Now I've got you, I'm never letting go."

"I can live with that. Don't think I'd want to live any other way." Marty sighed with contentment. Sometimes you didn't even know you were looking for love, until it came right along and bit you on the butt.

The end of the journey was in sight, even if the road they had travelled had been long, and somewhat torturous. But just ahead lay a whole new set of promises, as they continued to grow together. Sometimes the whole was much greater than just the sum of its parts; sometimes you had to throw away caution. And sometimes the whole world shrank right down so that it was all about two people, standing in a tiny kitchen, holding on to one another like they would never let go again.

"What time is it?" Kensi asked curiously.

Marty realised it was going to take a while before he worked out exactly how her mind worked. But that was okay – they had the rest of their lives together. That might just be enough time. "You worried you might be missing one of your trashy tv shows?" he teased.

"Hell, no. I've got them set up to record."

"Great. That's a date then – you, me, that sofa and some brain-numbing tv. And maybe I could give you a foot massage?"

"That sounds lovely." _And who knows where it might lead? All the way, with any luck._ "But I was just wondering when Hetty and the rest of the team were coming over." _I reckon we've pushed our luck far enough already. I don't want them to see anything they shouldn't. Hetty's seen more than enough of you as it is. And I'd never hear the end of it from Sam and Callen if they walked in and caught us at it._

"Baby girl, don't you worry about a thing. Because we've got all the time in the world. And then some." He lifted Kensi was sitting on top of the counter and started to unbutton her blouse. Because some things just couldn't wait a second longer.

For a moment Kensi worried briefly about what any passing neighbours might think. But then her reputation around here wasn't exactly stellar to begin with. And now the nosy snoop from upstairs probably thought she was some sort of deviant anyway, after all those comments Marty had made about whipping. So who cared? She leant forward and nipped his ear lobe, not particularly gently, but still not hard enough to draw blood.

"Hey. What was that in aid of?" Marty rubbed his ear and looked at her, with a certain amount of excitement.

"You sent that text asking me to bite you – so I did." Kensi reached behind her and unfastened her bra strap. Like most men, Marty still had a certain amount of trouble with that. She'd have to make sure he got lots and lots of practice.

"That wasn't exactly what I was thinking of." _Mind you, standing here, looking at your breasts, I can't exactly think straight at the moment._

"How about you show me what you were thinking of?" Kensi was toying idly with the button of his jeans and it was an invitation far too good to refuse.


	38. Chapter 38

"The things we do for you, Hetty," Sam grumbled. "This is above and beyond the call of duty." He jangled the six pack of beer he was carrying and wondered if even that would be enough to make this session even vaguely palatable. It didn't seem likely, somehow.

"Don't be a party pooper." _My, someone's grouchy today. I wonder if it's because I'm driving? Men can get so bent out of shape over little things like that. _Hetty accelerated rapidly, just to make a point.

Callen tried to look on the positive side of things. "Maybe Deeks has given Kensi a few pointers?" _Or maybe we could just play 'Go Fish' instead?_

"I'm pretty sure he has – but I don't think we're going to get to see any of that, G. We got lucky once, but that's probably about it." _And Kensi will kill us if she ever finds out._

"Yeah, for someone who was shot, Deeks sure doesn't let it cramp his style." _Or anything else, come to think of it._

"From what I saw last night, Mr Deeks' wound seems to be healing rather nicely. I don't even think it will leave a scar." An absolute silence greeted Hetty's remark, one that lasted for rather too long for comfort as they considered the implications.

"Ok-ay. That was interesting. And disturbing at the same time. We don't want to know any more, do we Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "Absolutely not." He thought for a moment and then nodded. "No, screw that – of course we want to know. All the details. Don't leave a single thing out."

"Then you will have to want, Mr Hannah. Curiousity killed the cat." _Oh, pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?_

"Yeah, but at least he died with a smile on his face." Sam stared out of the car window with a glum expression. "And we're going to die of boredom. Or at least frustration."

"Deeks doesn't look frustrated."

"He's got fringe benefits. I guess this will be the last poker game then."

"Maybe Kensi had an off-day that one time she played with us?" Callen suggested. "It can happen. And she did say that her Dad taught her to play poker."

"Have you ever considered that maybe he was a lousy poker player too? G, you've got to face facts – she had four nines one time and thought they were two pairs." Sam rolled his eyes heavenwards in supplication. "Can we at least stop and pick up some beer, please?" He might get through this if he was drunk enough. But they were definitely going to need more alcohol.

* * *

><p>"So what did Hetty say?" Kensi asked, as they lay in a tangle of sheets and intertwined limbs, in the boneless state of complete and utter relaxation of post-orgasmic satisfaction.<p>

"About the game? Or about us?" Marty said lazily.

"Us, of course." _Funny how there's suddenly an 'us'. Funny how it feels so right. _"Is there going to be a problem?"

"Why should there be a problem? Don't go looking for trouble, Kensi."

"I can't help it." She buried her face in Marty's chest and felt the warm, solid comfort of his arm around her. "I'm not lucky in love."

"So how come you're such a lousy card player?" he teased.

"I am not!"

"Actually, you are. Truly terrible. The guys told me all about it."

"I can't be good at everything," Kensi mumbled.

"And you don't have to be. You're not Wonder Woman – not really. And you don't have to be. But you're the next best thing." _Stop trying to be so perfect. Because you don't even have to try – not with me._

"So Hetty doesn't mind about us?"

Marty stretched luxuriously. "I think she knew before we did. All she said was 'what took you so long?' and gave me that look. The one where she's just waiting for you to say something." _The look I've learnt not to get sucked in by, because therein lies madness._

"So what did you say?"

"Are you kidding? I didn't say anything. 'If in doubt, say nothing'. That's my motto." He doubled up as Kensi punched him lightly in the stomach.

"You are such a liar. You're always saying inappropriate things at the worst possible times. You never know when to keep your mouth shut."

"Yeah, but I can say outrageous things and still keep a straight face. Unlike you. That's why I can play poker."

"So that's my problem – I can't lie? Then how come I'm so good at going undercover?"

"Maybe if you work that one out, you might be better at cards?" Marty looked at his watch, "We'd better start to think about getting ready."

"Or we could just call and put them off? Reschedule?" Kensi started nibbling gently at his neck and it took all Marty's willpower not to succumb.

"Or maybe not. Come on – this is going to be fun."

As far as Kensi was concerned, that seemed about as unlikely as enjoying a root canal without the benefit of local anaesthetic, but she was willing to give it a shot. Especially as Marty was standing at the side of the bed, stark naked and holding his hand out invitingly. That settled it, once and for all: if she was willing to go through the ritual humiliation of playing poker and showing herself up, then it must be love. It was as simple as that. She'd been looking in all the wrong places and here it was, right here in front of her. And all she had to do was to reach out and take hold of his hand. That was all she had to do. It must be love – but was she willing to take the chance?

There was no choice, no choice at all. There was no need to keep moving in that finely defined line she'd set for herself, while going precisely nowhere at all, because here was the one person she'd needed all along. Here was the boy she could stand behind, the man who would always be there and Kensi knew she was right where she wanted to be, right where she had always wanted to be – at the centre of someone else's universe, and at the centre of Marty's universe, no less. She was in love and it wasn't frightening at all, in fact it felt fine. So it was the easiest and most natural thing in the whole word just to put her hand in his and know that he would be there, wherever she wanted to go. It must be love – because that was the way things were.

"Nothing's going to change our world, Kensi. Not unless we want it to."

Limitless, undying love seemed to pool out like a million shining suns, enticing and inviting and everything else seemed to slip away into infinity.

"Nothing's going to change our world," she agreed.


	39. Chapter 39

"This isn't Kensi's place," Sam said flatly as they stood in awestruck wonder. "You can see the carpet for starters. Did you know she had a blue carpet, G?"

"Nope. I didn't even know she had a carpet, period. You could never see it for the pizza boxes. The whole place looks bigger, doesn't it?" Callen sniffed the air appreciatively. "And it smells different too. Kind of… clean. Maybe Kensi moved without telling us and there's a new tenant?" There was definitely an absence of the junk and chaos he normally associated with Kensi's living quarters. This was definitely weird.

"Ms Blye had _not_ moved," Hetty said emphatically. "Mr Deeks kindly came over earlier on to clean up a little."

It was impressive what he had managed to achieve in such a short space of time, she thought. Clearly the man had hidden talents. She wondered if by any chance he might be available on an informal basis to come and work his magic on her own houses. That was the problem of being ultra-vigilant and maintaining more than one residence – you never quite seemed to get caught up with the housework before you moved on to the next place. But Marty Deeks could solve all her problems in one fell swoop. It might even be possible to deploy him permanently onto housekeeping. Possible, but not entirely ethical. Mind you, Hetty could sweep ethics underneath the rug as readily as the next person – in the secure and certain knowledge that Marty would then come along and tidy her discarded scruples neatly away. It certainly was tempting.

"A little? The man is a cleaning machine. He is a god among cleaners." If Deeks had walked in at that moment, Sam would have been very tempted to fall down and kiss his feet. "If Kensi doesn't want him, then give him to me, Hetty. I'll make it worth his while. Heck, I'll even marry him."

Callen looked hurt. "What about me?"

"What about you? You don't have a place to keep clean. You just impose yourself on friends and then don't even bother to strip the bed afterwards. Plus you leave damp towels lying on the bathroom floor. You don't know the meaning of cleaning, G, so you're not getting Deeks. You don't deserve him and you wouldn't appreciate him. There's no contest. I want Deeks. I _need _Deeks, Hetty."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," Callen protested. "I meant _'what about us'_? You know – you and me? Partners? And you're going to throw me over for Deeks? Just because he looks good in an apron and rubber gloves?"

"I want Deeks. End of story."

"You can't have him. He's mine." Kensi came through from the kitchen, with a definite smirk on her face.

"That's not fair."

"It is so. I saw him first. Finders: keepers – loosers: weepers."

Sam eyeballed her. "And I'm bigger than you."

"Are you fighting over me?" Deeks was close at Kensi's heels. "That's so cute. Last time that happened I was in high school."

"Girls or boys?" For some reason, Callen really wanted to know.

"Both. Girls against boys actually. The field hockey team against the football team. It was pretty much a massacre – those girls were fierce. I just had to let them have their wicked way with me. Anyway, it seems I still have this unisex appeal. Which is fine by me. Do I get to choose between Sam and Kensi, Hetty?"

"No – you get to put the beer in the fridge." She gestured to the large brown bags Sam and Callen were cradling protectively. "After you've given one to me, of course." She could sense she was going to need a drink if things carried on like this.

"I could fight you for him, Sam," Kensi said. "If you're not afraid of getting beaten by a girl?" She balled up her fists provocatively.

"I'm afraid of hurting you."

"Yeah, right. You and whose army?"

Deeks opened a beer and handed it to Hetty. "Be careful Sam – she fights dirty."

"I know. I put on Kevlar underpants just in case she goes for my ass. Maybe Hetty should consider making them standard issue in case Kensi gets mad again?"

"Tell you what – why don't you sort this out like grown-ups – over a nice, friendly game of poker?" Helping himself to a beer, Deeks looked inordinately pleased with this diplomatic solution.

"That would be like taking candy from a baby," Sam said dismissively, at the same time as Kensi wailed "Marty!" disconsolately.

There were times when Hetty wondered what she had done, bringing Marty Deeks into the team. Tonight was not one of these occasions. Tonight she was more than happy to sit back, drink beer and watch as events unfolded.

"Should I be bothered that I'm being treated as an object of desire?" Deeks asked Callen as they got the table ready, while the two erstwhile combatants sat on opposite sides of room, trying to psych one another out.

"Treasure every moment, because it's not like it's ever going to happen again."

"You're jealous, aren't you? Go on, admit it – you're jealous, Callen."

"Am not." Even as he spoke the words, Callen could hear how lame he sounded.

Deeks was determined to push the point home. "You are too. You are so jealous. Not feeling the love?"

"You're Kensi's partner, Sam's mine. End of story."

"Don't be a sore loser. Just because I'm irresistible."

"I can resist you. Quite easily." _You're not that cute. Cute, but not that cute._

"They can't – and that's the point. Your bromance with Sam is going down the river and there's nothing you can do about it." Deeks was definitely gloating now and Callen could feel his temper start to rise.

"Maybe not, but I could always shoot you in the other butt cheek to even things out. See how irresistible you are then, why don't you?"

"Why won't you just admit you're jealous because they both want me?"

"Sam wants you to clean up after him. Kensi wants your body. That's all. So don't flatter yourself."

"They still want me. And that bugs you." Deeks rammed the point home with considerable satisfaction.

"Stop smirking, because it really doesn't suit you. I think I prefer you pouting." Callen straightened up before he was tempted to punch Deeks in the nose. "Okay, we're ready now." And the really annoying thing was that he was actually jealous. _How crazy is that? Being jealous of Deeks – who is so much less experienced than me, even if he is younger… and taller… and has more hair… insanely hot hair, as a matter of fact… and now he has Kensi too. Why on earth would I be jealous of Deeks?_

"Let the games begin," Hetty decreed. "And may the best man or woman win."

"Win Deeks – which is hardly much of a prize," Callen muttered, but nobody was listening.

"Exactly what does Sam get to do with me if he wins?" Deeks asked disingenuously. "Not that I'm suggesting he would do anything, uh – untoward, but just because I'm curious?"

Hetty raised her eyebrows. "He gets to do whatever he want, Mr Deeks."

Kensi's eyes lit up like candles. "That means the same goes for me – and it's officially sanctioned by Hetty too." She gave a little jump. "You were so right when you said we didn't have to worry about any little rules and regulations getting in the way of us being together, Marty."

Judging by her excitement and the smug look on Deeks' face, Callen reckoned they'd all been had. But of course, everything depended on how well Kensi played against Sam. And Sam was a decent card player, with a face as inscrutable as the Sphinx's. Clearly, they had a plan, but for the life of him, Callen couldn't work out what it was. It would take more than a few hours of intensive coaching to even start to teach Kensi how not to giveaway every card she held in her hand. And even Deeks wasn't that good. In fact, Callen was beginning to suspect that he was very bad indeed.


	40. Chapter 40

It did not take long for that feeling to crystalise and then to seed itself firmly in reality. Callen knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was definitely something up – something that pair had concocted between themselves. Putting Kensi and Deeks together was a partnership only the angels could hope to supervise. He realised that Sam was being played here, as deftly as any violin. The Kensi who sat opposite him at the table was not the same woman who had played cards so disastrously that time before. Sure, her game was still a little erratic and unorthodox, but that only served to put Sam further off his own strategy. No, the main difference was in her whole attitude. Somewhere along the line, Kensi had gone from being as transparent as ice to totally unreadable. Because while her body language said one thing, her cards said another – most of the time. It was the complete unpredictability that was the problem. Plus the fact that she favoured some suits above the others, because she liked the faces of the court cards.

Callen watched as a miniscule frown appeared between her eyes. It was hardly noticeable, just the merest hint of concern and a slight narrowing of her eyes that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. Sam had seen it too. Callen could tell that by the way his partner's body seemed to relax slightly and the way he confidently threw his chips down onto the table and raised the ante that little bit further, and racked up the pressure in the process.

"Oh." Kensi bit her bottom lip and cast a beseeching look across at Deeks. That could mean she was lost, or that she simply didn't have the Jack of Hearts, who she had an inexplicable fondness for. Then again, it might just mean that she had the hots for Deeks. Anything was possible – that was the problem.

"Uh uh. No cheating. You play your own hand, without Mr Deeks' help," Hetty called out, waggling her finger in remonstration and looking for all the world like some mistress at an old-fashioned girls' school: one that was very big on fair play, high academic achievement and the value of good, wholesome pursuits – the sort of place that created strong confident women, who could bake soufflés and solve algebraic equations at the same time; who played hockey for blood and who always had a clean handkerchief tucked in their knicker-leg for emergencies. The type of women who sent most men running for safety the moment they strode onto the scene. Hetty could have kept a hoard of such capable females under her complete control with a single quirk of her eyebrow, and would then have them eating out of her hand and singing her praises in four-part harmony. The question was – could Kensi possibly join their ranks? It was looking more unlikely by the second.

"Just let me think for a minute." Kensi furrowed her brow properly this time and her eyes darted back and forward, as if seeking some hidden meaning in the cards. Callen almost felt sorry for her. She was so clearly out of her depth.

"Sure." Sam could afford to be magnanimous – especially as Kensi was about to crash and burn. "You take all the time you need." He took another deep draft of beer and thought with great satisfaction of how clean his kitchen would be. Especially the microwave, which had never been the same since he'd exploded a whole bunch of Peeps inside it. Who would have thought a bunch of blue marshmallow chickens could make so much mess? So much bright blue, incredibly gooey mess? Sam hated to think what they did to your intestines, if that was what they did to a microwave. But it would be shiny bright and sparkling when Deeks had finished with it.

Nervously, Kensi threw in a few more chips, and then studied her cards again, before placing them face-down on the table with an attitude that could only be described as fatalistic. She seemed to slump forward almost imperceptibly, and kept giving Deeks sideways looks from underneath her lashes.

"I'll see you." Why prolong the agony? This was Kensi, practically his best friend. And someone who might just have his back tomorrow or the day afterwards. There was no sense in totally humiliating her, after all. That would be counter-productive at the very least, if not downright suicidal. It would be kinder to end things quickly and get down to some real action with the decent players. Sam threw the remainder of his chips casually on to the table and fanned out his cards. "Read them and weep." He placed them down on the table: two aces, two eights and a lone jack. The Jack of Hearts, Kensi's favourite card. He almost felt sorry about doing this. Almost – but not quite. Not if it meant getting Deeks and his awesome cleaning abilities.

Kensi looked as if she was going to be sick and she looked longingly at the lucky Jack, lying traitorously on Sam's side of the table, where he was not wanted and certainly unloved. It wasn't fair... "O-kay." She picked up her cards and looked at them despairingly for a few seconds, shuffling their positions almost mechanically. And then her whole posture changed and a bright smile flashed brightly across her face. "Oh! I never saw that." Triumphantly, she placed her cards on the table. "That's good, isn't it?" she asked hopefully.

Sam gave her a condescending smile. "Nice try, Kensi." And then he saw what she had just done and the rest of the sentence fell away into thin air. He reached across the table and put the cards into order, his hand trembling visibly as he did so. Once he had finished, he looked at the result in astonishment.

Hetty came to stand at his shoulder. "A ten-high straight? That beats two pairs. Nicely played, Ms Blye."

"I think you'll find she's just won. Fair and square." Much as Callen hated to admit it, Kensi had played superbly. More than that, she'd played Sam every step of the way.

"Like you said: read them and weep, Sam." Deeks stood behind Kensi and bent over to envelop her in a hug. "Nicely played, baby girl." He dropped a kiss on top of her head and then rested his chin on her shoulder, beaming happily at the highly discomfited Sam.

"I won?" For a moment, Kensi couldn't quite take it in. "I won!"

"You won Deeks," Callen reminded her. "If you call that winning."

"I won." It was still hard to believe.

"You cheated. You had to have cheated." Sam couldn't believe what had just happened. He'd been so sure…

Much as it pained him, Callen had to disagree. "She didn't cheat. We were all here, watching. Face it, Sam – you were beaten."

"By a girl," Deeks added helpfully, just in case he hadn't realised. "My girl."

Callen helped himself to another beer. "You want to tell us how you managed that, Deeks?"

"Sheer animal magnetism?" Deeks returned, deliberately misunderstanding the question. "Downright irresistibility?"

Kensi gathered her winnings towards her, revelling in the satisfying sound the chips made as they tumbled greedily against one another. "Isn't there a name for that?" she asked ingenuously, pointing towards Sam's last hand, which still lay abjectly on the table.

"I believe there is. And rather apt, into the bargain. It's called a dead man's hand, isn't it, Mr Hannah?"

Sam decided he wasn't even going to dignify that last remark with an answer. But he was so dead, they might as well measure him up for that pine box here and now. Not only had he been beaten by a girl, he'd been beaten by Kensi. He didn't quite know which was worse. Or did that make it doubly bad – he'd been beaten by a girl, who happened to be Kensi, aka the worst poker player in the world. Only suddenly she wasn't. How the hell had that happened and why hadn't he seen it coming?

"I still want to know how you two pulled that off." He owed it to his partner to get to the bottom of this, Callen reckoned.

"I want never gets," Kensi informed him. "Except for me." She'd just played the highest stake game of her life and she'd won the ultimate prize.

* * *

><p><em>Okay - so how did they pull that one off? All will be revealed in due course. Not even evil plot bunny would give Deeks to Sam, after all. And he'd be wasted in the kitchen when clearly his natural habitat is the bedroom. Or the bathroom. He and Kensi do seem rather fond of spending time in there together. I wonder why?<em>


	41. Chapter 41

_so exactly how did they manage the transformation? Easy, when you know how..._

* * *

><p>"Come on," Sam begged. "You won – now put me out of my misery. How did you do it?"<p>

"Marty might have given me a few tips," she owned.

"A few? Kensi, it had to take more than that. You were like a completely different person. One who could actually play poker."

"That's because she was." Deeks was enjoying this hugely. Normally, he and Kensi were the subordinate partnership, even to the extent that they had to sit in the back of the car whenever the four agents were travelling together. It made a refreshing change to be in the ascendancy for once.

"It was all quite simple really." Kensi watched as Hetty brought the cards neatly together, split the deck and then shuffled them, using only one hand. Her left hand. Now that was impressive. Seriously impressive. Maybe the rumours that she'd once been undercover for seven months as a croupier in Caesar's Palace were true after all?

"Really simple. A bit like Sam," Deeks volunteered in an undertone.

"I heard that."

"I rather think you were meant to." Hetty gave the cards one final shuffle and looked up expectantly. "Well? Are we ready to rumble?"

"Ready, willing and able." Callen had a secret adoration for Doris Day and all her many works. "But not before you tell us how you did it."

Kensi sometimes wondered if Callen was suffering from early onset dementia. "Marty already did," she said patiently. "Weren't you listening?"

"I kind of blot out about 50% of what Deeks says most of the time. It's the only way, if I want to stay sane. All that frelting and what not kind of melts my brain cells."

"I'm not going to rise to that, because I know you're just annoyed that Sam chose me over you. And it must hurt knowing that I'm the partner of choice. First among partners, that's me. The _ne plus ultra_ of partners, if you will."

"I'd really rather not, if it's all the same."

Hetty gave a loud cough. "It might do you all good to remember exactly who is in charge around here. And that includes arranging who works with whom. It would be relatively simple to switch things around. Throw a little variety into the melting pot of life."

Callen shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you understand that I am not working with Deeks. I'm the senior team leader and I get to choose my partner."

Pushing her glasses down to the end of her nose, Hetty regarded him for a long moment. "Re-living our kindergarten days, are we, Mr Callen? I could always request the return of Agent Renko and you could move over to join his team, if you really feel that strongly about things?"

"And then I'd move up to team leader," Sam realised "Giving me the power and the glory. Not to mention the extra money. I don't have a problem with that, Hetty – no problem at all. It's been nice working with you, G."

"Are we really going to break up a beautiful friendship over a game of poker? Do I mean that little to you, Sam?"

"Unlike Deeks, you can't clean worth a damn and Kensi's got a better butt. No contest really."

"You don't pout as well as he does either."

"Deeks has had more practice than me."

"I'm ready to deal," Hetty reminded them. "When you've quite finished bickering and we've decided on a game."

Kensi shot her a bemused look. "I thought we were playing poker?"

"I meant which variant. Five-card draw, seven-card stud, Texas hold 'em… "

"Strip poker," Deeks suggested _sotto voce_. "Or maybe I should leave that till after you're all gone and it's just me and Kensi?"

"There's different kinds of poker? Really? With different rules?" Kensi shook her head, "No wonder I get confused. So I'd have to be a different person for each type then, wouldn't I, Marty?"

"No, you wouldn't. Like I said, all you had to do was to put yourself into character for the game. Just like you were undercover on a mission. All you had to do was to stop being Kensi and be someone else. Someone who could play poker and bluff with the best of them. You can be the same person, no matter which kind of poker you're playing."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Just as long as you're not yourself, you'll be fine."

"That's all you did?" Sam felt like putting his head in his hands and weeping. "You told her to be someone else?"

"Someone who could play poker," Deeks amplified. "Come on – it was obvious. Kensi can go undercover with the best of them. It's only when she plays poker that she goes to pieces."

"You've created a monster," Callen informed Hetty. "In ten years time, when that pair are running the country, you'll be sorry. Mark my words."

Kensi was still uncertain. "Do you want to tell me what all these different games involve? Because I kind of think that Tracey would be more likely to play that texas one, while Fern… "

"Fern would play stud. No doubt about it. She's that type of girl. No better than she ought to be."

"And who would play strip poker with you, Deeks?"

"Me, of course. One of the little perks of being in over-all charge." It was hard not to laugh at the expressions on their faces. "Oh come on, gentlemen – surely you know when I'm joking? A little levity never did any harm you know." Hetty started to deal the cards out.

"Exactly what game are we playing?" Deeks asked nervously. Hetty was a great player and she could have the shirt off his back under normal circumstances. God knows what would happen if they were actually playing strip poker. Plus there was the fact that he'd got dressed in a hurry and was currently without underwear, which could prove to be a trifle embarrassing. And he was simply not going to even contemplate winning and seeing Hetty in her underwear, for therein lay madness.

"Five card brag – what else?" After all, it seemed to fit the bill perfectly, she thought.

"No humble brags now, Kensi," Sam warned and was gratified to see how confused she looked. If he could just keep this up, he might actually stand a chance of winning the odd hand or two.


	42. Chapter 42

"I won!" Kensi crowed happily, counting her winnings once again, just to make sure. "I really won."

"Sure you did. You came out a whole five dollars ahead at the end of the evening." Marty watched as she rejoiced, so completely happy and content with her small victory, and his heart felt very full. She'd never be a great player; in fact most of the time Kensi had played like a blind hen, but it had been fun. Kensi had had fun – and that was the main thing. And he'd got a huge kick out of seeing her have fun.

"Don't be mean. I never won before. Not real money. My Dad and I used to play for sunflower seeds. But I kind of think he let me win."

"Sunflower seeds?" Marty had heard of people playing for matches – but sunflower seeds was definitely weird. Did the winner get to have a binge afterwards? Was it even possible to binge on sunflower seeds – unless you were a parrot, of course?

"Mom was always on one health kick or another." Kensi returned her attention to the money. "Five dollars. I think I'll get it framed."

"You do that." Marty looked at the chaos piled up on the kitchen counters. "I'll just put the bottles in the recycling and wash those dishes and then I'd better get going." After expending all that time and energy cleaning the place up, he really didn't want to see it descend back into squalid chaos after only one evening after all.

Kensi's attention was suddenly diverted from the allure of lucre, to a much more immediate attraction. "Don't go. Please. I really want you to stay." _And the dishes can wait. They're not going anywhere. And neither are you. Not if I have anything to say about it._

"You do?" A slow smile came over his face. "I guess I could be persuaded."

"Oh, I can be very persuasive. Very persuasive indeed."

"Want to show me? After I've done the dishes, of course." _Yeah, right._

"Screw the dishes."

"I'd rather you screwed me."

"That can be arranged. But hold onto that thought for just a moment." Kensi disappeared briefly and then came back and took his hand. "Come on. I've got something to show you." She tugged him in the direction of the bathroom.

"What on earth could you possibly want to show me in the bathroom?" Marty mused. _This day started out lousy, but it's getting better by the second._

"Shut up and close your eyes. Go on. And no peeking. I'll know if you cheat." Kensi stopped outside the bathroom door, which was firmly closed.

"Yes, mistress. Want me to go down on all fours?"

"I might want you to go down, but not necessarily on all fours."

"Jeeze. I love it when you talk dirty, Kensi."

"I know," she said smugly. "That's why I do it. Now, keep your eyes shut."

"Okay." Marty could feel a throb of anticipation in his groin. He could also hear Kensi opening the bathroom door and suddenly the sweet scent of summer daisies rushed out to meet him. It was like walking into a meadow.

"You can open your eyes now." Kensi's voice was full of joy and her hand squeezed his tightly.

The bathroom was a mass of tiny flickering lights, each sparkling in a small pool of darkness like stars – a myriad of tea lights adorning every surface: lining the window sill, sitting all along the counter, grouped on the toilet cistern and even perched on the rim of the bath. The very full and very inviting bath. Marty had often wondered why some people preferred a bath to a shower, but now he thought he might just be converted. And three large vases stood on the floor alongside the tub, each overflowing with daisies – his daisies.

"You are amazing." Marty pulled her into his arms and savoured the amazing sensation of holding Kensi and wanting her so much it hurt and knowing that she wanted him just as much.

"I know," Kensi said in a modest sigh. "Aren't you lucky to have me?"

"Incredibly. Unbelievably. Even if you are wearing far too many clothes."

"Oh, that can soon be sorted."

"I know." Marty was getting a lot better at undoing her bra strap, Kensi realised. But then he was getting a lot of practice at it. Just wait till she put on the front-fastening one and he discovered the fun of trying to undo it with his teeth. Not to mention what she had planned for him after the bath…

"Come on." Kensi stepped into the warm water and sat down, leaving room so that Marty could get in behind her and she could settle her body against his. "Isn't this lovely?"

The room was dark at the edges, the water was warm and relaxing, feeling like velvet on their bodies and the scent of the flowers was almost hypnotic. It felt as if they were in a boat, drifting away to the very edges of reality and human existence, where nothing matter but the immediacy of the moment, a moment so complete and perfect unto itself and which would forever be enshrined in their joint memories, the future they were beginning to seal for themselves with every passing second.

"It's wonderful." Marty bend forwards and kissed the nape of her neck. "You're wonderful." And then his hands moved forward so that they covered her breasts and Kensi's head fell back onto his shoulder as a soft moan flew from her lips. Who would have thought life could be so wonderful?

"I do love you, you know?" she whispered.

"I know. And I love you too."

"I know."

And nothing else mattered. Everything else had ceased to exist. If only love could break your heart, it could also make your world complete.


	43. Chapter 43

_Just a tiny little bit, as I have some work to do now - sad but true. Assessing the impact of proposed legislation - and you know what I'd rather be doing..._

* * *

><p>Kensi reached out languidly, took hold of a bottle and handed it back over her shoulder. "Here. Indulge yourself. And me."<p>

"Sensual body wash," Marty read out. "Whatever do you want me to do with that?"

"Whatever you want. I'll leave it entirely up to you." Kensi pressed her shoulders briefly into his chest. "Just… indulge yourself. And indulge me at the same time."

"Can I worship you with my body afterwards?" He poured a little of the liquid into his palms and then started to caress Kensi with the resulting foam that sprang up in a myriad of bubbles. She wriggled languorously against him, as his hands moved slowly from her breasts to linger momentarily on her belly and then slipped farther down.

"That's not fair!" Kensi moaned as Marty's hands suddenly veered from their central path and went to left and right, so that they were caressing her thighs.

"You wanted me to do something else?" Marty leant forward to whisper and Kensi turned her head so that she could kiss him.

"Do I have to show you?" She could hardly bear the anticipation, the yearning need she had. Kensi kissed him again, hungrilythis time, straining against him.

"That would be kind of cool. I can be a slow learner though. You might have to show me more than once."

"It's not difficult. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it." Kensi took hold of his hand and poured a little more body wash into it. "Now, put your hand on my belly."

"Like this?"

"Exactly like that." Kensi put her own hand on top of Marty's and intertwined her fingers with his. "Now, you want to take this really slowly."

"I can do slow." His hand slid over her smooth skin and he watched in rapt fascination as Kensi moved slightly so that her thighs were parted and just waiting for the moment when his fingers moved through the tangle of curls and then started to caress her. The instant his fingers touched her, Kensi's hips jerked up sharply and a deeper moan reverberated from her throat.

"Did I do something wrong?" Marty asked disingenuously, even as Kensi's hand pushed against his own, holding it firmly in place, even as his fingers continued to seek her and tease her.

"God, no. You're doing everything right."

"So I shouldn't do this?" His fingers were dancing tantalisingly and Kensi was moving with them, moving against them, moving without thinking.

"Oh yes. Do that. Please do that. Don't stop." Her back was arching now, and her breath was coming in short gasps.

Marty used his free arm to pull her tightly against him, even as his fingers continued to tantalise her. "Why would I want to stop?" Seeing how turned on Kensi was getting, and knowing that he was controlling this was incredibly erotic

He was kissing her neck now and Kensi felt that she had never been closer to nirvana. The water was warm and felt like heaven, but his fingers and the things he was doing to her felt even better. "How about that? Is that good?" he asked, knowing from the way her butt was grinding into his hips that it was, and enjoying every second of the experience.

Kensi couldn't actually answer that, because the world suddenly split into a million of tiny fragments, brightly sparkling and filling her with such deep joy she thought she might just explode too.

Later, when she'd finally recovered her breath and thought she might just be returning to reality after a journey into infinity, Marty folded his arms around her. "I wish we could stay like this forever. Just you and me."

"And miss out what I've got planned?" She wriggled her ass gently and felt his instinctive reaction and heard the small groan of pleasure.

"You've got a plan?" Lying here, with Kensi sprawled against him, life seemed almost perfect. He couldn't imagine being happier.

"Oh yes. And I promise you're going to like it."

"Does it involve spanking? Or biting? Or even those panties with the daisies on them?" he teased

"It might. But that would be telling. Or it might be something even better." Kensi put her hands on the sides of the bath and stood up. "Want me to show you?"

Marty looked up at her, standing in the soft light of the candles, with her skin pink from the warm water and eyes shining brightly. "How could I possibly resist?"

* * *

><p><em>Slushy plot bunny says he wants a bath too. I can't say I blame him.<em>


	44. Chapter 44

He stood up and helped her out of the tub. "I can resist everything but temptation." _And you are so tempting, Kensi. You'd tempt a saint down from heaven and, God help me, I'm no saint._

"And me." Kensi grabbed a couple of towels and made a break for the bedroom.

"And you," Marty agreed, contemplating the wholly delicious sight of her rear for just a second before haring after her at high speed. He caught up with her just inside the bedroom and judged his tackle nicely, so that they fell on top of the bed.

"That was cheating." She loved the solid male warmth of his body, inimitable feeling of skin against skin, the sheer joy of knowing that they were together and that nothing else mattered, that nothing could possibly hurt them.

"All's fair in love and war. And I do love you." He couldn't say it often enough, and just the sound of the words was incredible. To love and to be loved. What could possibly be better?

Kensi turned her head so that she could see his face. "Is that why you've got a daisy clenched between your teeth?"

"No. That's just because." He removed the flower and trailed it slowly down the length of her back, the petals barely touching her and Kensi gave a small squirm of delight as every single nerve seemed to respond to the sensation.

"That'll do nicely. And speaking of doing very nicely…" she wriggled and managed to turn around completely in his arms. "You seem to be managing that rather well all by yourself."

"What can I say? I'm with a hot girl. And I'm a man."

"You certainly are. How about I take care of things? I promise to be very nice to you." She got up onto her knees with an air of expectancy.

"Promises, promises. And then you're going to be very bad?" He sounded rather hopeful, Kensi thought.

"I might even be horrid."

"That could work too. Go on then – take me." Marty flopped backwards onto the bed in an attitude of complete and utter surrender. "I'm all yours. Have your wicked way with me."

"That has to be the best invitation I've ever had. And it's not even my birthday." _But I'm about to make you think all your birthdays have come at once, Marty. I promise you that. Because you're worth it. You are so worth it. It was even worth you getting shot in the butt, because it's brought us here. Together. Like it was always meant to be. Like we were always meant to be._

Sometimes, there was no point in questioning things – you simply had to go with the flow, rather than trying to battle futilely upstream. Sometimes, resistance really was useless, because there was a larger plan that was going to come to fruition, despite the best efforts of mere mortals to thwart it. Sometimes, you just had to give and accept what was going to happen. And sometimes, it was all worth it. This was definitely one of those times. And there were some times that you wished could go on forever. It was those times that would live forever in your memory, only growing sweeter and more memorable with the passing time. This was also one of those times. It was the best of times and it transcended time.

"Let the good times roll." Marty lay on his back, looking up at Kensi, her skin almost luminescent in the cool darkness of the bedroom. He reached out one hand and stroked her hip and she felt as if his touch was almost burning.

"Talking of rolling, why don't you?" she invited. "Roll over, that is."

"Roll over and die? As in la petite mort?"

"Could be. You never know your luck." Kensi grinned down at him. "You want to talk some more French to me? It's kind of sexy."

"And I'm not? I was kind of hoping you'd leave me speechless."

"That can be arranged. Turn over."

"This is all starting to get very familiar." Marty moved onto his stomach and Kensi ran her hands briefly over the broad planes of his shoulders, feeling how the muscles rippled pleasurably under her touch and then skimmed her fingers down either side of his spine.

"Your poor little butt." Her fingers barely grazed the wound. "Do you want me to kiss it better for you, Marty?"

It took a moment for him to reply. "Yeah. Oh God, yes."

It was the softest, most delicate kiss. It was almost as tentative as the daisy petals, but had the warmth of her lips and the soft focus of her breath floating over his skin. "Is that better?"

"It's getting better. But it still hurts. Maybe you should kiss me again?" Every hair on his body seemed to be standing up in anticipation of her touch and he was getting more aroused by the second.

"Maybe I should," Kensi agreed. "Maybe I should just kiss you all over?" She dropped a whole series of kisses on his butt. "You really do have a seriously cute butt." Her hands were caressing him, stroking and kneading him and occasionally she interspersed her attentions with a gentle nip, not hard enough to draw blood, but certainly enough pressure to make Marty jump with the sudden brief flash of pain. "You did ask me to bite you," she said sweetly. "And I waited and waited, like a really good girl."

"You're killing me here, Kensi," Marty groaned, trying very hard to stay in control of things, but only too aware that things were building up to a point where control just might not be an option for very much longer. He was so hard that he ached, and was very conscious that she'd yet to touch the parts of his body that begged for attention, but the way Kensi was teasing and prolonging things was messing with his head, because part of him longed for fruition and the other wanted the tantalisation to last a bit longer.

"I could stop?"

"No you couldn't. Not now. That really would kill me."

"You're sex mad, aren't you, Marty Deeks?" Kensi sat back on her heels and slapped his butt sharply.

"I'm mad about you. I'm mad about sex with you. And you are driving me mad. And that was very good, by the way."

"You ain't seen nothing yet," Kensi promised. She gave him another smack for good measure and then Marty felt the bed shift as she leant over and pulled open a drawer. "Now, lie very still indeed."

* * *

><p><em>ah yes, randy plot bunny is in the room - and he's having fun. well, the weekend has officially started.<em>


	45. Chapter 45

As he lay there, face down on the bed, Marty could feel a thin stream of cool liquid trickling down the length of his spine, from the nape of his neck, right down to his ass. And then Kensi's hands were moving across his back, slipping across skin and muscle and moving in wide, firm circles, before honing in exactly on the most abused parts of his body and starting to ease away the strain with precise attention to that he could feel himself sinking bonelessly into the mattress. Or almost bonelessly. One important part of him was very definitely not relaxed, not relaxed at all and the pressing urgency was getting greater with every touch of her amazing fingers.

"Massage oil?" he guessed, with a barely suppressed air of excitement colouring his words.

"Baby oil, actually. Almost the same."

"It's working for me. It's amazing. You're amazing." The pressure of her hands felt like heaven, soothing away the last remnants of pain from his inadvertent tangle with Nicole's car. Kensi shifted her position so that she was sitting on his butt and began to work on the knots in his shoulders. The combination of her nearness and warmth in addition to the agony and ecstasy she was inducing was so incredible that Marty groaned in pleasure and felt his body relax into submission as Kensi continued her ministrations. "Where did you learn to do this?"

"I went undercover as a masseuse for an op. Hetty arranged for me to have a crash course in techniques."

"Remind me to thank her, next time we meet." All the tensions were starting to ease out of his body. All but one. That was getting more urgent by the second. And if something wasn't done about it soon he thought he might just explode. Or at the very least have his mind blow apart.

Kensi moved to sit beside him, took the bottle of oil and squeezed a generous amount onto his butt. Marty could feel it start to trickle down into the cleft between his buttocks and smile crept across his face. "That is incredibly…" the sentence tailed off into oblivion as the sensations increased once again, even more urgent this time. It was taking every ounce of self-control he had not to rear up, grab her and make love to her more thoroughly than ever before, only something told him that this slow approach was going to make things even more incredible.

"Sensual?" Kensi added more oil to her hands and rubbed them together expectantly. "Arousing?" If he'd thought that was good, just wait until she moved onto the next stage in her plan. Kensi had never felt more powerful in her life. This beat everything she'd ever known, had ever hoped to know.

"Tickly, actually." The oil was now slowly moving downward between the cleft in his butt,and the languorous sensation almost had him begging for mercy. The expectation was almost too much and it was hard to keep the edges of his mind from floating away into oblivion and just allowing himself to surrender to the experience completely. Only something told Marty that if could just hold on just a little longer, the final release would be worth it. It was just that he needed her touch so much, it was killing him.

"Are you tickly, Marty?" Kensi bent forward so that her breath brushed feather-light across the surface of his ear and Marty gulped as yet another sensation was added to the barrage that was sweeping throughout his body.

"Kind of," he admitted and felt her hand nudging gently between his thighs. His movement was entirely involuntary as he reacted automatically to accommodate her and his hips eased up off the bed at the same time. "Oh, yes." Kensi's hand, warm and slippery from the oil was cupping his balls, while at the same time one fingers glided upwards towards his asshole, stopping for there for a second and circling lazily before descending once more. "Sweet Jesus."

"Sweet, sweet Marty." Kensi ran her tongue around the rim of his ear and Marty jerked convulsively. That movement was enough to allow her other hand to move underneath his body, finally she was also caressing him, right where he needed her touch the most; encircling him with warm certainty and very definite intention. And that was the point when Marty found himself incapable of further speech, as all his energies was concentrating on not thrusting so hard in her warm and tender hold so that he'd come in a couple of seconds, like some gauche teenager.

"Oh Kensi. Oh my God." He swallowed and tried very hard to concentrate on holding off for just a little bit longer, even though his mind was screaming and begging for fulfilment.

"How about you turn over?" she suggested, knowing he wouldn't be able to last much longer and knowing that she wanted him just as badly.

Right now, he would have done anything she asked. Turning over was good – he could just about manage that, Marty thought. As long as she didn't stop touching him, or stop holding him, caressing him and teasing him. His eyes closed as he abandoned himself to Kensi's ministrations and the world contracted right down to his body and her body and the things she was doing and the things he was feeling. "Don't stop," he managed to gasp and a wicked smile crept across Kensi's face.

"Why would I want to stop? I've only just started." There was lots of oil left in the bottle, after all. And the night was still young and neither of them had to report for duty tomorrow. There was nothing they couldn't do. Right now, Kensi felt as if she held his soul in her hands. No man had ever reacted to her in this way, or caused such reactions in her. Just watching Marty struggling to contain himself was enough to arouse her, and to know that she was making him feel this way, react this way, was not only powerful, it was possibly the best aphrodisiac she'd ever encountered.

"I love how you love me." Marty's jaw clenched involuntarily as more oil was dribbled down onto his chest and then Kensi moved once more, so that she was astride his hips and he could feel her hot wetness, even as her fingers encircled both his nipples and her mouth descended upon his.

* * *

><p><em>Slushy and randy plot bunnies are now holding paws and skipping round the garden in mutual delight. Only it looks as if it is about to pour with rain - that'll teach them!<em>


	46. Chapter 46

"I love how you love me." Marty's jaw clenched involuntarily as more oil was dribbled down onto his chest and then Kensi moved once more, so that she was astride his hips and he could feel her hot wetness, even as her fingers encircled both his nipples and her mouth descended upon his.

"Really? I'd never have guessed." Kensi grinned happily and watched how just her slightest movement caused an incredibly reaction. She moved her hips marginally and started a series of slow, circular motions that almost had him begging for mercy.

"Kensi?" It wasn't quite a moan, but it was damn close. At this stage Marty had no problems about begging for mercy. If she didn't let him in soon he was going to explode.

"Yes, Marty?" Kensi replied sweetly while simultaneously grinding her hips rather more deeply knowing exactly what reaction that would induce – in both of them.

Marty's eyes flew open wide. "Okay, that's it." Somehow he managed both to grab the bottle of oil and lever himself into a sitting position at the same time. "That was definitely enough." A generously amount of oil was poured into his hands and then applied all over Kensi, concentrating mainly on her breasts.

"It's never enough," she assured him, arching her back with pleasure and letting her breasts fill his hand. It was funny how the nerves in her nipples seemed hotwired straight to her groin. Pleasure central. Finally, Kensi shifted her position so that he could slip inside her. Pleasure central plus one.

"This is damn close, though," Marty breathed with a mixture of satisfaction, relief and achievement. He held her tightly and their bodies, both slick with the oil, started to move in unison, sliding against one another without friction, skin gliding against skin. "You like being in control, don't you?" He let her dictate the rhythm.

"Who doesn't?" Kensi was savouring the moment, knowing that the next was going to be even better and the one after that was probably going to be even better yet. There was nothing to beat the sensation of feeling him inside her, knowing they were almost as one and that pretty soon Marty was going to make her mind splinter into infinity so that she might almost reach out and touch tomorrow.

"Still, a bit of give and take can be good." He moved more deeply and Kensi clung tightly to his shoulders. Her breath grew increasingly short and ragged as Marty thrust forward again, and then pulled back so that he was almost withdrawing. She clenched her muscles as hard as she could, determined not to allow him leave. He fingernails dug painfully into his flesh.

"Biting me's not enough?" Marty was moving much faster now and Kensi knew she was almost there.

"I told you: it's never enough – not with you. Not ever." Her voice was thin and otherworldly and then Kensi's eyes glazed over as her body was seized by a barrage of contractions.

"Thank God." He'd held off, trying to be a gentleman and live up to the 'ladies first' motto, but the moment he felt the rhythmic convulsions, Marty knew he could just let go, indulge himself and hold onto Kensi for dear life.

* * *

><p>"What are we going to do?" Kensi asked, as dawn started to break in a hesitant deluge and tones of subdued lemon, rose and apricot began to shine through the thin drapes.<p>

"I don't think I can do anything. Not right now. But later, we can do whatever we want. Whatever you want. Within reason. I don't think I'd be very good on a trapeze. You'd look good in one of those leotards though. The spangly ones. Kind of like a Vegas showgirl."

"That's not what I mean. I meant about us. What are we going to do about us?"

"Same answer as before." They lay in a tangle of sheets, limbs intertwined and their faces barely inches apart. "Or we could just stay here like this."

"You know what I mean. When we go back to work. To them."

"Why does it bother you so much? They already know. By now, I'd bet pretty much the whole of NICS knows. Big deal."

"For you, maybe. But it's different."

"No, you're not playing that game with me, Kensi. It's not different for girls. Not at all. We all want the same thing – and you and I – we found it. We struck lucky. So don't even think about having doubts and throwing it all away just because people might talk, because I won't let you."

"You're three guys, and there's only one of me," she moaned, rubbing her face languorously against his chest. Sometimes it felt damned good to be protected.

"Lucky you – working with three hot dudes."

"I've only got eyes for you."

"I know. You want me to go all caveman and beat up anyone who looks at you the wrong way?"

"No-ooo. Not exactly." _Yes, that would be great. You could go all ape-shit on them and nobody would dare say anything. Not while we were there, anyway._

"I can't stop them teasing us. You know that's going to happen."

That was exactly what Kensi was dreading – the comments, the knowing looks. "But you're not going to be there on Monday, are you? I'm going to have to walk in there by myself. And like I said – I'm the only girl. So it is different for me."

"That's because we can only cope with one of you. Actually, I don't think the world's ready for another Kensi Blye." Marty wrapped both arms around her and squeezed tightly. "If it means that much to you. I'll be there." _Don't you know I'll always be there for you? Because no one else could ever know me like you. I can make it through anything, if I know you're there. You make me want to make it through the bad days, Kensi. And you make loving fun again._

"What do you mean?"

"I'll be there. On Monday morning. Right there by your side. We'll go in together."

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Like I keep telling you, I'd do anything for you, baby girl – anything at all."

Kensi thought she'd died and gone to heaven all over again.


	47. Chapter 47

"I woke up this morning,  
>My baby was gone,<br>I woke up this morning, Lord,  
>My baby was gone,<br>I thought that she loved me,  
>It seems that I'm wrong…"<p>

"Is your throat sore again?" Kensi asked sympathetically, as she brushed her teeth. Listening to your lover sing soulfully should be a pleasurable experience, she thought, even if the song was decidedly downbeat. And out of tune.

Marty's head appeared around the shower curtain. "No, it feels fine. Why?"

"It's just that your voice sounded kind of hoarse." _And kind of flat. Or was it sharp?_

"No, that's how it always sounds." He shot her a hurt look and returned to his shower, but mercifully didn't sing any more.

Kensi checked her watch. "You'd better hurry up. We don't want to be late."

"Don't get your knickers in a knot. They're not going anywhere. And it won't take me long to get ready."

"Well, if the speed you can take your clothes off is any indication to go by, I'll believe you."

"You want to time me?" Marty offered, finally turning off the water, just as Kensi wondered what her water bill was going to be like.

"Actually, there are other things I'd rather do. Like get going while it's still morning."

"Nag, nag." Marty flashed her a quick grin and made a bolt for the bedroom. "Make me a coffee to go and I'll drink it on the way."

"You've already had two cups."

"I know. I need at least three before I start to function properly."

Kensi muffled a retort and decided it was easier just to do as he asked. By the time she was putting the lid onto the travel cup, he appeared in the kitchen, fully dressed and only slightly damp around the head.

"See, I told you I was fast."

"That's not exactly anything to boast about. Being easy."

"Ha ha. Funny lady." Marty took a gulp of coffee and sighed in appreciation. "Okay, I'm good to go. So do your worst. Lead me on." His voice was laden with doom.

Kensi looped her arm through his. "It won't be that bad."

"That's easy for you to say."

"You want me to go in with you? Hold your hand?" she teased.

"Yes. Definitely. You can tell them to be gentle with me. Give them that fierce look."

"What fierce look?"

"The one you give me when I've said something stupid."

"Nope, you're going to have to narrow it down a bit more for me. Are we talking about when you say something slightly stupid, something quite dense or something mind-bogglingly awful?"

Marty pinched her butt. "I hate people who are chipper in the mornings."

"And I've only had one cup of coffee. Imagine what I'd be like with more?" Kensi teased.

"Don't tempt me."

"That's because I'm practically perfect."

"Yeah, I think so." Marty gave her a quick hug as they reached the car. "But then I'm biased."

He'd finished his coffee by the time they arrived, but Kensi was certain the caffeine was not responsible for the way his left leg was jiggling up and down incessantly.

"Stop it!" She accompanied her words with a slap to his knee. "It's like sitting next to Michael Flatley just before he goes onstage for Riverdance."

"So I'm a bit on edge? So would you be."

"No, I wouldn't," Kensi insisted. "I'd be fine. Like I keep telling you -everything will be fine. You're making a fuss over nothing. It'll be over in seconds. " She could tell by the mulish look on his face that Marty was not buying this for one moment and practically had to drag him over to the desk.

"Mr Deeks? We've been expecting you." The nurse consulted the chart. "You've come to get your stitches out today?"

"Uh huh." From the look on his face you would have thought he was going to have his hand amputated with no pain relief and only a piece of wood to bite down on.

"Do you mind if I come too?" Kensi asked, seeing that Marty had gone uncharacteristically monosyllabic and was holding onto her hand so tightly all the bones were grinding together.

"No, of course not." The nurse smiled sympathetically at them, noting how pale the patient was. "Are you a friend"

"No, she's my boss. But she takes an interest in all her boys. A very personal interest. Don't you, Madame Fifi?"

"I'm here to make sure he doesn't try to run away before you take out those stitches. Because Marty boy has got a bit of a phobia about stitches, don't you?"

"It's perfectly understandable. Natural even. You should be worried about the people that aren't worried. Because that's not natural and…"

"Shut up," Kensi said kindly. "Before you sound exceptionally stupid."

"That's the look I was talking about. The fierce look. That's it right there."

"It won't hurt a bit, "the nurse assured him. "Just a slight stinging sensation. Maybe you'll feel it pulling a bit.

Marty looked at her incredulously. "Excuse me? That's not actually helping. Of course it's going to hurt. You're going to be pulling thread out of my half-healed butt and you think it won't hurt?" He tried to turn around, but Kensi was having none of it.

"He's just a bit overwrought," Kensi said apologetically, holding onto Marty's arm for grim death as he tried to pull away. "And he had far too much coffee. Which was my fault, only I didn't think he was going to make so much fuss and act like a great big baby." She tugged his arm. "And will you stop trying to escape? You want me to get them to give you a shot of tranquilliser – in your butt? Right here in the corridor?"

"Right now, that sounds really good." But at least he stopped pulling and let go of her hand.

Kensi shook her hand briskly to try to encourage the blood to start circulating again. "I'll be right beside you. I promise." Her heart went out to him, standing there looking like a little lost boy.

"You think I'm being really stupid, don't you?"

"No, I don't. Honestly." Kensi smiled at him. "I think it's kind of cute that you're willing to admit you're scared."

"It's not like I can hide it. Look." Marty held out his hand, which was shaking as if he had palsy.

Kensi realised that perhaps that tranquilliser might not be such a bad idea. And then she might just ask for an injection herself, to help her get through the unavoidable but equally terrifying prospect of reporting for duty at the Mission.


	48. Chapter 48

_It's been suggested to me that this story might be more suitable categorised as 'M' for some elements._

_When I post the next chapter, I will also change the rating, so please be aware it will no longer appear on the general page and you'll have to adjust the rating filter accordingly._

* * *

><p>"Can you please get him some valium?" Kensi asked the nurse. "He really does have a thing about stitches."<p>

"Just stitches in me," Marty explained. "Stitches in other people I can just about cope with, as long as I'm not actually expected to look at them."

The nurse smiled sympathetically and patted his hand. "I know how you feel. They're not the nicest of things, are they?" She disappeared off, totally missing the horrified look on Marty's face.

"Was that supposed to be reassuring? Because it wasn't. She's made me feel worse." His knee started jiggling again and Kensi clamped her hand down firmly on his thigh. "I don't think I want her taking my stitches out. I don't want anyone taking my stitches out. I'll just live with them."

"Sit still. Breathe in slowly through your nose and then out through your mouth. And think calm, peaceful thoughts." Kensi felt like a yoga tape.

"Like what? You need to give me an example."

"Like how good it's going to feel when those stitches are out."

"That doesn't make sense." Luckily, the nurse returned with the tablets at that point, and Marty seized them gratefully, gulping them straight down and not even bothering with the cup of water she was holding.

"Give it half an hour before they start working and come back when he's calmer. You could go for a walk or something like that."

"We could go for a coffee?" _And I'm perfectly calm. I'm just terrified, that's all_.

"No, we couldn't. You're wired up enough as it is. We're trying to calm you down, remember?"

"Oh yeah, right." Marty's knee started jiggling again but he caught sight of the look on Kensi's face and made a concentrated effort to stop. "You're quite scary, you know that?"

"No, I'm not."

"You are. Ray was scared of you."

"Ray thought also thought we had a thing, remember?" _And let's face it, ray wasn't exactly the best judge of character._

"And he was right." A goofy grin spread across Marty's face.

"No, he wasn't. We didn't have a thing then. And we don't have a thing now either, come to that."

"We don't?" He looked confused. "I thought we did. _Wow, these pills work fast._

"No, we don't have a 'thing', Marty. Because we're adults. We have a relationship." _Is it my imagination or are his eyes starting to look unfocused?_

"Yeah, that's right." It was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate. "And that's good, right?"

"It's very good," Kensi said patiently. "Very good indeed." _He's stoned._

"Oh. That's good." He leaned back, rather too quickly and his head hit the wall with an audible thud. "Who put that wall there?" _That sounded like it should have hurt. I wonder why didn't it hurt?_

"You stay here. I'll go and let the nurse know you're ready." Kensi had only taken a couple of steps when she was aware Marty was trying to stand. "Marty – sit. And stay there." She spoke rather more sternly than she meant to and he subsided back down rapidly.

"I'm not a dog," There was a hurt expression on his face.

"It would probably be easier if you were," Kensi muttered under her breath. "A lot easier. And those tablets had better have worn off by the time we get to work or I'm just going to drop you off at the pound." She smiled brightly at the nurse. "I think he's ready now."

Once in the treatment room, Marty decided to go completely against type and refuse to either lie down on the couch, or to remove his pants.

"I'd rather stand," he insisted, conveniently ignoring the fact he was rocking back and forward like a tree in a high wind.

"You'd be better off lying down, just in case you feel faint."

"I can faint lying down." Marty looked absurdly pleased at this gift.

"How about I hold him steady?" Kensi offered. She'd like to get out of the hospital before it got dark, but at this rate it was looking unlikely.

"He's still going to have to take his pants off," the nurse pointed out.

"No way."

"You come over all coy _now_?" Kensi couldn't believe her ears. "You go around commando half the time."

"That's different." She could tell by the way he was pouting that this was one battle she wasn't going to win. Not with him drugged up to his eyeballs. But at least he'd stopped that jiggling.

"I suppose we can give it a shot," the nurse conceded.

"Shot? Nobody said I was going to get a shot. I don't want a shot."

"Shut up, Marty," Kensi said kindly and pulled down his pants far enough to expose the wound. "Go on then – and be quick about it. Before he changes his mind." _And before I walk out._

* * *

><p>"You lied," Marty said pitifully. "You said it wouldn't hurt." He was walking with a decided list to one side.<p>

"So sue me. And you shouldn't have done that to the nurse."

"It wasn't deliberate. It was just instinctive."

"We're never going to be able to go back there again, you know."

"Good." A dreadful thought struck him. "You don't think they'll tell Hetty, do you?"

"Probably." Kensi sounded glum.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when she finds out."

"My shoes? What are you talking about? How's this all about me?"

"I was under the influence of medically-prescribed drugs. I can't be held responsible. But you were in charge of me. So it's all your fault, basically."

"Great."

* * *

><p><em>So, golly gosh - I'm going to have my first M rated story. I really feel rather naughty. Of course, it is all down to those plot bunnies...<em>


	49. Chapter 49

Kensi shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You could take me home and ravish me?" Marty said hopefully, even if his head didn't feel as if it was properly attached to his body. He was sure he could find a work-around. Even if that was the triumph of hope over experience speaking.

"Think again. I'm going in to work, remember? And you promised you'd come in with me. For moral support."

"I don't know if that would be ethical, seeing as how I have these really, really amoral thoughts about you. Carnal thoughts, even."

"How about you hold onto that lust – at least until after we've seen Hetty?"

"Okay, that's the moment officially gone now. You've killed it. It's deader than a Norwegian Blue. It's lying on the floor of the cage. And now it'scompletely extinct."

"I think I get the point." Kensi pointed to the car. "Are you going to manage to get that butt of yours in there?"

"My abused butt? The one you slapped?" The one that felt as if red hot daggers were being poked into it?

"That would be it. Come on, I had to stop you doing anything else to that poor nurse." Despite herself, Kensi began to laugh. "Did you see the look on her face?"

"I was otherwise occupied. As you very well know." Marty eased himself in gingerly "They did give you pain pills for me, didn't they?"

"I forgot to ask," she admitted shamefacedly. "I just wanted to get out of there."

"Aw Kensi." He wriggled uncomfortably. "It really hurts, you know."

"I've got some in my purse, if you're desperate." THey were left over from the time she'd tangled with a car and landed heavily on the road.

"I'm desperate. Desperate for you. And my butt feels like it's on fire."

"I'm not sure I should let you have them, seeing what you did back there. It wouldn't be responsible of me, would it?"

He gave her a singularly winning smile. "It would be if you came home with me. Just to make sure I was alright."

Despite herself, Kensi couldn't help smiling back. "That's certainly an idea." She handed him the tablets. "Go on, indulge yourself."

* * *

><p>"Ah, the wounded warrior returns!" Hetty greeted Deeks, as he limped pitifully into the Mission, his entire posture redolent of one who is bravely forcing himself onwards despite terrible injuries.<p>

"Along with none other than his personal Florence Nightingale." Callen lifted a hand in salute.

"Kensi as lady of the lamp? Are you sure, G?"

"Sure, I'm sure. Deeks rubs it and out she pops."

"No, you've got that wrong, It's the other way around."

"Hi guys." Deeks put a brave smile on his face, while Kensi fumed behind him.

"Can't you stop them?" she hissed at Hetty.

"I can do many things, but I can't work wonders. Some things are beyond even me. Maybe if you exercised a little self-restraint you wouldn't find yourself in this awkward position?"

"It wasn't an awkward position. I'm very flexible." Kensi simply couldn't resist making that point. "And why lay it all on me? That's sexist."

"Not at all. I was going to have a word with Mr Deeks as well. And suggest that if he can't control himself he might want to consider using these." She held out a strong elastic band. "Simple, but very effective, I'm told."

"Oh God. You're even more evil that I thought."

Deeks hobbled slowly towards his desk. "Any chance of a cushion?" he asked in faint tones, that suggested he might just pass out with the effort of it all. Callen looked at him closely and saw he was actually a peculiar shade of greyish white.

"Sam?" he said in a warning tone. "You want to catch?"

"I don't even know where he's been." Nevertheless, Sam leapt out of his chair and managed to catch Deeks just as he crumpled forwards. "Kensi? You want to get over here?"

Hearing the commotion, Kensi rushed over, just as Sam gently lowered Deeks down onto the ground. "What did you do to him?" she accused.

"Me? I did nothing. Except save him from keeling straight over."

"I think the question is more properly 'what did you do to him', Ms Blye." Hetty looked at Deeks, who was clearly out for the count. "I thought this was just supposed to be a routine hospital appointment?"

"It was." Kensi sank to her knees and patted the wan cheek gently. She would much rather have been patting another cheek altogether, but had wisely decided to wait until they were in a slightly less public place before she did so. It would also be a decided advantage if Marty was actually conscious and able to take an active part in proceedings, although she could probably still manage if it came down to it.

"That's not what the hospital administrator said."

"Oh. You heard about the incident with the nurse?" Kensi could feel her cheeks burning

"I heard about the incident with the nurse," Hetty agreed, in tones of deepest disapproval.

"So did we. That woman has a really loud voice." Sam was beginning to get worried, as Deeks showed no sign of coming around any time soon.

Callen prodded Deeks with his foot and received a small grunt for his pains. He was pretty sure the guy was faking it. "And of course Hetty had pressed the speakerphone button accidentally on purpose. I think just about everyone on duty heard all about it."

"It's an easy mistake to make." She looked at Kensi and shook her head. "I really am disappointed in you. How could you let such a thing happen?"

"It wasn't like I could do a whole lot about it," she protested. "Blame Deeks, not me."

"You were supposed to be looking after him. And the nurse said he was rather woozy from the anti-anxiety medication."

"Why does he need anti-anxiety meds in the first place? Has he got performance related anxiety issues, Kensi?"

"Shut up, Callen." Kensi gripped onto Deeks had and willed him to open his eyes. If he didn't come around in the next few minutes, she was going to call an ambulance, because something was definitely not right.

Deeks' eyes fluttered open. "Okay, this is weird. Why am I lying on the floor?" He looked around in a confused manner.

"Because Kensi tried to ravish you."

"Okay. I remember we talked about that earlier on. I just didn't expect it so soon. I thought we'd decided to wait till this evening." The world was doing some very strange things and he wasn't at all sure that he liked them."You want to give us some room?"

Callen coulnd't resist the golden opportunity. "I want you to get a room. A private room."

"I want you to get up and stop fooling around," Kensi said sharply.

"Can we just wait till the world stops spinning a bit?" Marty blinked twice in quick succession and gave his head a small shake. "And that was a mistake. What kind of pills did you give me, Kensi?"

"Strong ones?" Kensi looked at the bottle. "With a really long name."

Callen removed it from her hand. "That would be the kind of tablet you don't take an hour after gulping down a mega dose of valium. What are you trying to do to him, Kensi?"


	50. Chapter 50

"I was trying to help!" Kensi protested.

Callen showed her the bottle. "You could have killed him, you know that? Those warnings are there for a reason."

"How about I help him walk it off?" Sam grabbed hold of both of Marty's hands and pulled him upright. "You going to help me here, buddy?"

The younger man gazed at him dreamily. "I can't feel my legs, Sam." Marty lurched forward into Sam's chest and promptly wrapped his arms around Sam in a bear hug, holding on for grim death, even as his legs started to give way and he slid slowly down Sam's torso.

"You make a lovely couple." Callen grabbed Deeks underneath his arms and hoisted him back on his feet. "Come on, time for a nice walk in the fresh air." He slung one of Deeks' arms around his neck, while Sam did likewise with the other.

"I'd rather go to bed," Marty mumbled. "With Kensi." He turned his head and gave Callen a beatific smile. "Don't you love Kensi? I do."

"That's nice. You want to concentrate on walking?"

Marty studied his feet for a moment in a curious fashion, as if seeing them for the first time. "I don't think I can. They don't seem to work anymore." One leg shot forward in an uncoordinated fashion and he staggered wildly.

"You'll get the hang of it." Between them, they frogmarched him to the door.

"Kensi – make some coffee, will you?" Callen called. "Strong as you can. Stronger, if possible."

"Can I have a cookie too?" Marty asked winningly. "I'm kind of hungry."

"Great. He's stoned, he can't walk and now he's got the munchies."

"At least my butt doesn't hurt any more. These are really great painkillers. You should try them Sam." He was virtually dragged out of the Mission, feet flailing in an uncontrolled fashion.

Kensi sank into a chair. "I am so sorry, Hetty."

"For what? For shooting Mr Deeks in the butt or for nearly over-dosing him? Or for falling in love with him in the first place?"

"All of the above? No, scrub that. I'm not sorry I fell in love with him. Why would I be?"

Hetty smiled at her. "That's the question I've been asking myself for months. You tried so hard to deny it – and for so long. I was beginning to think you'd never acknowledge how you felt."

"You knew?"

"Instantly. I would have been blind not to notice the way you looked at him – and the way he looked at you. So – what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are going to try to keep hiding the fact you're in love, from all but a select few?"

"It's nobody else's business but ours," Kensi mumbled. "It's private."

"What are you frightened of, Kensi" Hetty asked kindly. "And don't you think it's time to stop pretending? Time to start being honest with yourself and everyone else around you? Or are you ashamed?"

"Ashamed? Why would I be ashamed?"

"For the same reason you want to hide the relationship, perhaps?" Hetty walked off, knowing she had given her agent plenty to think about.

Nearly an hour had passed before the three men staggered back in. Marty was still dragging his feet and Callen and Sam looked shattered.

"We've practically had to carry him back," Callen complained, dumping his colleague unceremoniously in a chair. "Next time, be more careful with him, will you?"

Kensi bent down to check on Marty and recoiled in horror. "Me be more careful? Look at the state of him. What did you do?"

"He wanted an ice cream: we bought him an ice cream," Sam said wearily. "And then he spilled the ice cream down himself. Just like a little kid."

"And it was double choc chip, Kensi." Marty raised a sorrowful face to hers, one that was smeared with ice cream, as was his shirt. "I only had one lick."

"Please don't tell me you paraded him around in that state?" Kensi begged. "You did, didn't you?"

"How else we were supposed to get him back? There's a shortage of flying carpets today."

"Typical. How about you make yourself useful and get me a clean shirt from his locker?" Kensi pulled a pack of wipes from her desk drawer and carefully wiped his face clean. "Okay, stand up, Marty." She tapped her foot impatiently. "Come on, today would be good. Get up, will you? UP."

"I keep telling you, I'm not a dog," he muttered resentfully and staggered to his feet.

Kensi grabbed hold of his arms and pulled them above his head "Keep them there," she warned, and tugged the stained shirt off over his head.

"You know G, Kensi is going to make a wonderful mother someday."

"And until then, she can practice on Deeks. Remember to tuck that clean shirt into his boxers, Kensi."

"You going to give him a bath when you get home, Kensi?"

Deeks smiled sleepily at them as Kensi pulled the clean shirt on. "I gave Kensi a bath the other day. It was lovely."

"Will you shut up?" Kensi was pretty sure everyone had heard that last statement. And then she remembered the conversation with Hetty. Why was she so bothered?

Marty looked hurt. "Okay." He subsided back down into his chair. "Can someone call me a cab, please? I think I want to go home now."

"I'll drive you," Sam offered. "That way, if he conks out again, I can haul him upstairs. But don't get any ideas about me putting you to bed, Deeks – alright?"

"I can manage." Marty put both hands on his knees and gulped in a deep breath. "Just call me a cab. I can manage the rest just fine."

"Like hell you can." Kensi bent down in front of him. "Just for once in your life, let someone help you, okay?" She leant in and kissed him. "Because if anybody's putting you to bed, it's going to be me. And then I'm going to get right in there beside you." She straightened up. "Everybody hear that? I'm love with Deeks, alright?"


	51. Chapter 51

"You really do have a very unique way of encouraging team bonding, Hetty." Leon Vance sauntered downstairs slowly, the ever-present tooth-pick protruding from his mouth in a manner reminiscent of one who had just enjoyed a light snack of porcupine.

"Who am I to stand in the way of true love, Leon?" She looked at Deeks, who had a rather shell-shocked expression on his face after hearing Kensi's unequivocal declaration of love. "And I think you've been here quite long enough, Mr Deeks. Perhaps you should give yourself another couple of days to get back to full fitness?" Truth be told, he looked as if he would lose a fight with a paper bag right now.

"Perhaps Agent Blye could help him?" Nobody had ever accused Director Vance of having a sense of humour, but there almost appeared to be the hint of a smile on his face. It was highly disconcerting, Hetty thought. Almost as if the man had a soul, when everyone knew he'd sold it years ago.

"Perhaps I could," Kensi agreed. "He is my partner after all." And the word 'partner' could encompass as much or as little as people wanted to make of it. Kensi knew how she felt and that was all that mattered. What anyone else felt about it was irrelevant.

"Go on then. I'm not known for my generosity, so take advantage of it while I'm in a good mood." Leon waited until they had gone out of the building, arms looped around one another's waists, Deeks moving at a snail's pace and Kensi encouraging him in an undertone.

"So, can I expect a happy announcement, Hetty?" Leon Vance might be a good many things, but nobody had ever accused him of being daft. He was only too aware that the pressures of working in NCIS brought people into the sort of relationship that was often closer than anything else in their lives. It was inevitable that the professional partnership would often spill into personal lives. Sometimes that meant a deep friendship, sometimes it meant a sexual relationship. In this case, it seemed to be both. Even if Blye had shot Deeks in the butt. It was one hell of a way to woo a man, he had to give her that. All the same, it would probably be wise to keep on the right side of her. He'd heard things about her – good things. She was one agent he would keep an eye on, that was for sure. Deeks – well, he was still an unknown quantity. Leon would reserve judgement for a while.

"One never knows, Leon – does one?" Who could tell what would happen next – especially where Kensi and Deeks were concerned.

* * *

><p>"Back there – what you said." Marty looked at Kensi.<p>

"What about it?"

"It was kind of a surprise. I did hear you right, didn't I? Or was it the drugs talking." Marty leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "You know, these are really good pills, Kensi. I feel great. How many have you got left?"

"You'll never know. You're not very good with pain meds, are you_?" One tablet and you're anyone's. Only you're mine. All mine. And I'm not sharing you with anyone._

"I'm great with them. They're great with me. It's the best high you can have legally. Apart from morphine. That's even better." He smiled happily at the memory. "I had morphine after you shot me, you know?"

"I remember. I was there." _It's not something I'm likely to forget in a hurry._

"Really? I don't remember. Are you sure?" Marty looked at her in confusion.

"I'm hardly likely to forget something like that, am I?" _Given I was feeling as guilty as hell. And then I passed out. I don't think you know that. I don't think I want you to know that._

"I think I whacked my head when the car hit me. That's probably why I don't remember."

"Yeah, right. It would have nothing to do with the fact you were stoned out of your skull on morphine, would it?"

"Probably not." He was silent for a minute. "Are we there yet?"

Kensi took a deep breath and called on all her powers of patience. "Not yet. We've only been driving for a few minutes."

"Oh. I was talking about something, wasn't I? Something important." Marty frowned. "No. It's gone."

"You were asking if I'd really said I was in love with you," Kensi reminded him. "If I said it in front of everyone. And I did. And I'll say it again and again and again. Because even if you are being incredibly annoying right now, I still love you. Because you're kind of cute when you're stoned. " She smiled and waited for his reaction. "Marty?"

There was no answer, because he had fallen asleep, head tilted to one side and with a suggestion of a smile.

"I have the best timing, bar none," Kensi rued. "I've got a free day and a hot boyfriend – and he's out for the count. Brilliant." She wondered how long the pills worked for and if they had any unfortunate side effects. "What am I going to do with you, Deeks?"

"Whatever you want?" he suggested sleepily. "Please?"

"How about we get you home and to bed and let you sleep it off for a bit?"

"Bed sounds good."

Kensi had to admit that he had a point. A very good point. She turned the air-con up to full blast, hoping that sub-zero temperatures might just jerk him back to full functionality. A girl could hope, couldn't she?


	52. Chapter 52

Kensi turned the air-con up to full blast, hoping that sub-zero temperatures might just jerk him back to full functionality. A girl could hope, couldn't she? All that happened was that Marty started shaking with cold and wrapping his arms around himself, of course.

"Are you trying to freeze me to death?" he complained, shivering dramatically.

"Fresh air's good for you. It clears your head." Mind you, he had a point. When the goosebumps were standing out on your arms, perhaps it was time to ratchet down the freezing cold air to something humans were more comfortable with, rather than polar bears? Realising that her hands were actually turning blue, Kensi She adjusted the temperature accordingly. Yup, that had maybe been a bit brutal.

However, once he'd thawed out Marty reverted to taking drivel. "I quite like my head like this. It's like I'm floating, or something. Or maybe it's my head that's going to float away?"

"Whatever. But make the most of it, because you're not getting any more of those pills. Not unless you're in hospital under medical supervision."

"Spoilsport." Marty tried to stick his tongue out, but found it didn't want to comply, so he gave it up as bad job. "Are we nearly there yet?" he asked hopefully.

"We're about 5 minutes nearer than the last time you asked."

"When was that?"

"Five minutes ago." It was at this point that Kensi realised she would never have the necessary patience to be a parent, because right now she would have cheerfully throttled Marty. Maybe he'd be back to normal when he slept this off? Because, God forbid, she couldn't take much more of this. Drastic measures were clearly called for, or by tomorrow morning the chances were that Sam and Callen would find her swinging from one of the light fittings. If she didn't kill Marty first, of course.

By the time they finally reached his apartment, Marty was sound asleep again and, what was more, murmuring something under his breath. Kensi leant forward, trying to make out what he was saying and discovering that she was strangely desperate to hear him say her name. Only the words were too indistinct and slurred to even attempt to translate. Heaving a sigh, Kensi poked him in the ribs and was absurdly gratified to see how effective that was.

"Wassup?" Marty looked completely bemused, eyes wide with surprise.

"We're here."

"Where?"

"Home. Your home, to be more exact."

"Oh." Marty thought about this for a second. "That's nice. Are you coming up?"

"Oh yes."

"That's nice." He gave her a dreamy smile. "I do love you, Kensi."

"Yeah. How about you say that to me later, when you're thinking straight?" Kensi leant across and opened the door. "You want to try getting out? And maybe starting to walk to the door?"

"I can do walking," he assured her. After a false start, when Kensi had to remind him to actually unfasten his seat belt first, Marty finally managed to get out of the car and staggered drunkenly towards the entrance of his building, nearly careening into an elderly lady who lived on the ground floor.

"I'm so sorry," Kensi said. "We're trying to persuade him to stop drinking so much, but you know what it's like. They've got to want to help themselves."

"I thought he was a police officer?" She'd always felt safe, having a police officer living in the building – but not if he was a drunk.

"He used to be with the LAPD. He was a detective." Kensi shrugged her shoulders. "What more can I say?"

"You should get out. A lovely young girl like you, wasting time with a man like that? You can do so much better for yourself."

Feeling only slightly guilty, Kensi flashed her a brilliant smile and hurried after her partner, who was standing looking perplexed in the entrance lobby.

"Are you sure I live here?" For the life of him, Marty would have sworn he'd never been here before.

"I'm certain." Kensi had some very pleasant memories of the time they'd spent in his apartment. The kind of memories that stayed with a girl and by which everything else was measured as happening either before or after. Everything had changed after she went to his apartment one night. Smiling as she remembered, Kensi pointed to the stairs. "You want to get your butt up there?" With any luck, a bit of exercise might hasten the detox and they could make some more memories.

Sadly, this was not the case. All that happened was that Marty happily burbled away, getting more nonsensical with each flight of stairs they climbed.

"How about you take a nice shower before having a nap?" Kensi suggested when they finally got into the apartment. By this time, Marty had moved onto the subject of manatees, for reasons best known to himself, and was regaling her with chapter and verse about their eating habits.

"That sounds good." He managed to remove his shirt without any problems, but got rather confused when it came to his jeans.

"Trying unbuttoning them, "Kensi advised and went through to the bathroom.

"Are you going to join me?"

"Maybe in a while." She tested the water and found it to be suitably frigid. "Are you ready?"

"Uh huh." The voice was directly behind her and Kensi nearly jumped out of her skin when Marty's warm breath hit the back of her neck and his arms crept around her waist. "Sure you won't join me?" His voice was low and he punctuated each word with a kiss.

"Not right now. I'm still fully dressed – see? You go in first." She held the shower door open invitingly and then gave him a small push forward, shutting the door briskly behind him.

"Jesus! It's fucking freezing in here. What the hell are you trying to do to me?" The water was so cold it just about took his breath away and Marty could feel his balls frantically retracting upwards.

Kensi leant all her weight back against the door, as Marty tried to push it open.

"Kensi. This isn't funny. It really isn't funny. Let me out." He hammered so hard Kensi was frightened the panels might break, so she stepped to one side and the door opened abruptly, so that Marty tumbled out on the floor.

"What the hell was that about?" He glared at her indignantly, only too aware that it was very hard to try to maintain any level of dignity when you were stark naked, freezing cold and lying sprawled inelegantly on the floor.

"Whatever it was, it seems to have worked." Kensi just about managed to get the words out in between whoops of laughter. "Doesn't it? You're actually making sense now." She reached inside and turned the water off.

"It wasn't funny." Levering himself to his feet, Marty grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He wasn't normally particularly shy, but no man really wanted to be seen naked and freezing. It really wasn't the best sort of look.

"Oh it was, believe me, it really was."

"How would you have liked being trapped in a shower cubicle and being pounded by gallons of icy-cold water?" he demaned

"All you had to do was turn the temperature back up." Kensi smiled at him and placed the palm of her hand on his chest and he thought of how warm and soft it felt. "Simple. Only you never thought of that, did you, Marty? On account of the fact you were stoned _and_ randy."

"I'm stone cold sober now." Marty let the towel drop from his waist. "But I'm still aching for you."

"So I see." Kensi let her other hand drift around to caress his butt. "Maybe I could do something about that?"

"Maybe you could."


	53. Chapter 53

Afterwards, Marty lay in the sound sleep of oblivion, tangled happily among the bedclothes. Given that he had been genuinely freezing and it had taken some time (and considerable ministrations) from Kensi to warm him up again, she didn't feel she could really complain about him poaching all the covers, so she slipped out of bed, pulled on a t-shirt and some panties and then sat down in a chair to spent some more time simply watching him sleep. Marty was good at sleeping, she had to give him that. He addressed sleep with complete seriousness and utter concentration. He seemed able to slip into a world of total oblivion, and if there had been Olympic medals for soundness of sleep, then he would have easily been a gold medal contender. Unlike Kensi, who could be woken up by the slightest noise, all the evidence was that Marty could probably sleep through a minor earthquake and then boast about the fact next morning. But there was something deeper about the attraction of watching him sleeping, Kensi realised, for this was the one time when all the normal guards and fail-safes of day to day life were absent. Watching him sleeping was one of the few times when she felt it was possible to finally see the real man exposed before her, with all his frailties, and none of the protective barriers he'd carefully erected around himself. And inevitably, sitting quietly watching Marty sleep took her back to the days she'd spent sitting at the side of his bed in the hospital, after he'd been shot. The days when she had first started to see the real man behind the protective veneer: the man who would do anything for her, even at the risk of his own life. Not for the first time, Kensi wondered what on earth she had done to inspire that sort of love. She felt as if she could never tire of looking at him and wondering at the fate that had brought them together. But, as tempting as it was to sit and watch Marty for just a little bit longer, the growl of her stomach exerted an even more powerful force, so Kensi decided not to test how dead to the world her lover was, and crept out of the room.

'Her lover'. It was the first time she'd permitted herself to use these words and it felt good. More than that, it felt right. Love and Marty were suddenly inextricable. He was her reason for living, the part of her life that had been missing for far too long. And God, this relationship just felt so damned perfect, like it had always meant to be. And maybe it had? Maybe there was one true soul mate for each person out there and it was purely by luck that they'd finally connected? Kensi shuddered when she thought about how nearly they had almost thrown it all away. How many times she had tried to push him away. Why had she been so determined to deny how she felt? A cold chill seized her whole body, even though the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She'd nearly lost the best thing that had ever happened to her and for a moment Kensi wondered if she was going to be sick, because losing Marty was inconceivable.

Clearly her blood sugar was low – it had been a long and rather strenuous morning, after all. A sandwich would probably help, Kensi thought, although a breakfast burrito would be even better. But while her fridge inevitably contained the remnants of at least one take-out delicacy, and normally had several in various stages of decomposition, it was a fair bet that Marty would have a cleaning schedule that precluded such a possibility. Which only proved that sometimes less-exacting standards of housekeeping were the way to go. Nevertheless, she made the best of the rather limited range of food available. Didn't the guy have anything that was just ready to go, other than vegetables?

Cosily ensconced on the sofa, with a sandwich that was as unhealthy as she could achieve, given the constrained choices his fridge offered, Kensi settled back to enjoy her free afternoon. Clearly they were going to have to come to some sort of mutual agreement on what constituted basic foodstuffs essential to a busy working life. A visit to the frozen foods section of the market was definitely on the horizon. She kicked off her shoes, grabbed hold of the remote and started channel surfing. It had to be said that there were worse ways of spending an afternoon than indulging in a little rest and relaxation, while your lover slumbered peacefully next door. It gave a girl time to recharge her batteries, refuel and catch up with all the latest trends at the same time. Yes, at the moment life felt very sweet indeed. She smiled to herself, took a large bite of her sandwich and found a music channel – life held no more. Except for a tall, slim blue eyed guy with fair hair, who for some reason known only to himself had fallen in love with a messed-up bunch of insecurities called Kensi Blye. The music filled the room and Kensi abandoned herself to the mindless pleasures of watching tv that required absolutely no intellectual input whatsoever.

* * *

><p>"Okay – I'm clearly in the wrong apartment. Because mine doesn't have this hot girl dancing around in her underwear." Marty staggered through from the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxers, rubbing his eyes and staring at the entrancing sight as Kensi gave full vent to her inner funk.<p>

"You didn't read the memo from the landlord, did you? This is a once-in-a-lifetime, never to be repeated, limited availability special offer." Kensi danced across the room and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"I'll take it. No questions asked."

"Not even the price?" Kensi asked, turning around and grinding her hips ever so slightly.

"Why quibble about the small details?" Marty's eyes were firmly glued on her ass, as the lime green daisies on her panties danced provocatively in front of him as she shook her booty in front of his appreciative gaze..

"Got your eyes on the prize?"

"Most definitely." He flopped down on the sofa and gazed up at her. "Any chance of getting a private dance?"

"You never know your luck." The music changed and Kensi did a small bounce of joy that made Marty's eyes open wide as he clocked the way her breasts jiggled. "I love this song." She began to sing along as she shimmied adeptly, clasping her hands above her head and moving her hips slowly and sensually.

"_Showing out, showing out, hit and run  
>Boy meets girl as beat goes on<br>Stitched up tight, can't break free  
>Love is the drug, got a hook on me<em>

Oh oh catch that buzz  
>Love is the drug I'm thinking of<br>Oh oh can't you see  
>Love is the drug for me."<p>

"Love is the drug, eh?" Marty raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Well, it works for me." He grinned at Kensi, who was now giving the dance her utmost.

"Me too. Are you sure you wouldn't rather have another pain pill?" Kensi suggested sweetly as the song ended.

"Nope. I'm too scared of what you might do to me next time." Marty hummed a few bars under his breath, as Kensi swung her legs up on his lap.

"Be afraid, be very afraid." Kensi gave a small moan of pleasure as he took hold of her foot and began to massage it gently. "Oh, that is just pure heaven."

"I once worked this cover as a massage therapist. It's amazing the things you can pick up." Unerringly, his fingers found a spot on the sole of her foot that made waves of peace seem to flow through out Kensi's body, so that she felt as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"I could get used to this," she admitted after a while. Just being together, not doing anything in particular. There was no stress, none of the anxiety and the endless feeling she was being judged and found wanting that had marked her relationship with Jack.

"Me too." Marty kissed each of her toes in turn and then gave her a dazzling smile. "I don't want this to ever end."

"It doesn't have to. But I have been thinking…" Kensi gathered up all her courage and gave him a beseeching look.

"Should I be afraid?" he asked. _Please don't tell me I should be very afraid. Don't tell me you think we've gone as far as we can and this is it._

* * *

><p><em>Many thanks to KMW for the concrit. Please be assured that, like all my stories, this one has a begining, a middle and an end - and that end is approaching! Of course, that is not to say that there will not be a sequel at some point... Regular readers will know how much I like sequels.<em>

_I also appreciate KMW's suggestion that I write a WHN for Human Traffic. We must be on the same wavelength because my plan is to write stories (probably WHNs) for all the episodes in season two. Nothing wrong with being ambitious, is there?_

_So, this is kind of a long-winded way of saying that I appreciate all the reviews you guys post. It seriously makes my day. And all suggestions are gratefully received. I'm blown away by how many people are following this story and don't want it to end. But sadly, it must end at some point. I know I'm one of the writers on this site who go in for longer stories and this one has turned out to be slightly larger than I'd originally anticipated. But, as I said before, there may very well be a sequel at some point. I think the next chapter will be the last one, unless Kensi and Marty have other ideas!_

_thanks again for reading - and enjoy the weekend!_

_MK_


	54. Chapter 54

_Well, here we are - the final chapter. Huge thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. Hope you like the way things work out._

* * *

><p>"Should I be afraid?" he asked. <em>Please don't tell me I should be very afraid. Don't tell me you think we've gone as far as we can and this is it.<em>

"Well, that all depends. Exactly how attached are you to this apartment?" A plan had been formulating in her mind, and the meeting with his neighbour that morning had only helped to crystallise matters. She hadn't been able to resist sewing a few seeds of doubt in the old lady's head, knowing what a reputation she had for gossiping poking her nose in where it wasn't wanted. Every week Marty regaled the team with some new tale about how she'd tried to interfere in his life. He wasn't alone in this – all the tenants in the whole block gave her a body swerve. Plus, she had a cat that was forever leaving decapitated corpses in the shared hallway, in the attractive way that cats have.

"Not especially. I mean, it's nice enough, but it's only an apartment." Marty had this sinking feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He had this awful feeling that he knew exactly what was going to come next.

"So you wouldn't mind moving?" _This is going better than I expected._

"As long as I'm still near the ocean." _Please don't ask me to move in with you, Kensi. Please. I really couldn't cope with that._

"That's all you're bothered about?" _This is going to be a breeze._

"Pretty much. Near the ocean, decent amount of space. Somewhere kind of cool." _In other words, somewhere that's nothing like that tiny bolt hole you call home. No wonder it's always in such a mess – there's not enough room to swing a cat. Not even that mangy beast that lives downstairs. Far less have adventurous sex without clearing a space for yourselves first of all. Which kind of takes away any spontaneity. _

"I've always fancied somewhere with a roof terrace," Kensi confessed. "Don't you think that would be nice – coming home and then sitting out with a glass of wine and watching the sun set_?" Come on – that sounds like heaven. Just admit it, won't you?_

"It would be even nicer if we could see the ocean," Marty agreed. _Okay – I can see exactly where you're going with this, Kensi. And you're right – it's a great idea. Possibly the best idea you've ever had, in fact. But I think I'll just let you lead me down that path a little further._

"Yeah – but a place like that that would cost the earth. And I could never afford somewhere like that. Not by myself." Kensi sounded as plaintive as she possibly could.

"Probably not. That's a pity. It would have been really nice. " Marty pretended to think for a moment. "Unless… " He looked at her and then shook his head. "No, I probably shouldn't even ask. Forget I even mentioned it_." Kensi, despite that lesson in how to bluff at poker, I can still see right through you._

"No – go on. Please." Kensi sat bolt upright and stared at him. _Ask me, damn you. Just ask me._

"Well – and this is only an idea, right? I mean you don't have to say yes. It's not like I'm going to be offended. Devatated maybe; hurt – probably. But not offended. Okay?" _She looks like she's going to explode._

"Go on." _Come on Marty. You can do it._

"How would you feel about us moving in together?" _Aw, God love you, Kensi. I can't spin this out any longer. Not when you're sitting there, looking at me like that. Looking like I've just given you the moon and the stars to play with._

"Wow. That one came out of left field. I'm going to have to think about it." Kensi looked astonished when Marty nearly rolled off the sofa with laughter. "What did I say that was so funny?"

"How about you just show me the apartment you've already got picked out?" he suggested, between wheezes of glee. "It'll be a whole lot simpler that way."

* * *

><p>"See? I told you this would be nice." Kensi sipped her wine and looked out at the roof terrace. So what if you had to crawl out of the bedroom window to get to it? The apartment was just perfect and once they'd finally unpacked all the boxes, it would be home.<p>

"And you were right. As usual." Marty craned his neck." I'm almost certain that if I just stand on the table, I'll be able to see the ocean."

"Don't even think about it. The table's brand new and you've already got a broken arm." Kensi grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back down.

"Exactly what are you more concerned about – me breaking the table, or me breaking my other arm?" he asked curiously.

"Both. And it was terribly convenient the way you managed to do that just days before we moved in."

"Sam and Callen managed just fine without me, moving all our stuff. If they ever need to get another job to pay the bills, I reckon they could set up on their own as moving men. Anyway, it wasn't like I broke my arm on purpose. And if you hadn't got in the way…"

"Don't try to tell me it was fault you broke your arm chasing a suspect. Why would I do something like that?"

"Same reason you shot me in the butt? To have me all to yourself?"

"Sometimes, Marty Deeks, you are so conceited it's untrue. You're not that great looking."

"Can I help it if you think so?"

"Okay, you've got me there." Kensi gave a sigh of contentment. "This really is great, isn't it?"

"Uh huh. I can see right down your blouse from here."

"Pervert. You want to be serious for a minute? Before the others get here?"

Marty heaved a martyred sigh. "Kensi – you've chosen the world's best apartment. It's great, you're great - even the wine is great. Actually, you're right. Life is great. Pretty much perfect. Apart from the broken arm, of course."

"What do you like best about it? The apartment, I mean?"

"Seriously? You have to ask me that?"

"I have to ask you that. Go on – tell me? It's this roof terrace, isn't it?" She leant forward, eyes sparkling.

"Not exactly," Marty admitted.

"Oh come on. Just because you found that cast and sling a bit difficult to manage getting out of the window. It'll get easier, I promise. And anyway, it's not it's that far down to the street. Only a couple of floors"

"It's far enough. I don't bounce, you know. I just tend to land on concrete with a loud thud that denotes several more broken bones."

"Okay. So it's not the roof terrace. Stop avoiding the issue. What do you love most about our apartment then?"

"Apart from the fact that you're in it? Okay - how about the fact that before tomorrow morning I plan to make love to you in every single room? Including the hall. And the roof terrace."

"Oh. Okay. That works for me." Kensi looked at her watch. "We've probably just got time to get started before the rest of the team gets here."

"I don't like to be rushed," Marty protested, as she propelled him back to the window. "Some things are too good to be rushed."

"Don't worry: we've got all the time in the world." Right now, Kensi felt that life was pretty damned perfect. And they were only just beginning. She really must have done something pretty incredible to deserve to be this happy.

_I must have done something amazing  
>in my last life,<br>something wonderful,  
>something I do not remember<br>—because they sent me you  
>in this life—<em>

_you with your tigery eyes  
>&amp; your strawberry mouth<br>with your funny beard,  
>&amp; your cosmic cuddles<br>& your fuzzy stomach  
>&amp; your solar plexus<br>glowing like a sun  
>against mine.<em>

_I must have done something astounding—  
>won a holy war<br>built a great cathedral,  
>carved a marble statue of the pope<br>which was a perfect likeness  
>(flattering yet true)<br>because they sent me you._

_I must have saved a species from extinction,  
>invented penicillin, radar, soap,<br>or maybe even marbles,  
>chocolate mousse, celery tonic,<br>washable latex paint...  
>I must have been a saint.<em>

After being alone for far too long and struggling to find a meaning in life, there came a time when it was pointless denying how you really felt, when you simply had to acknowledge that love had crept up on you unawares and had claimed you. There came a time when you could no longer convince yourself that you were not in love, because love was, quite simply, the most important thing in the world and everything else was only incidental. And there came a time when it seemed as if life was finally complete, because you had found the one person who made everything perfect and nothing else mattered at all

**THE END.**

* * *

><p><em>Like the ending?<br>Wonder what on earth they're going to get up to next?  
>I have a plan... but then I usually do!<br>**  
>Look out for "You're Still The One I Want", coming soon!<strong>_


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